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Post a Christmas Joke Ye Like Here,a ton of Christmas jokes to read
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 08:25 |
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THE CAJUN DAYS OF CHRISTMAS
Day 1
Dear Emile,
Thanks for da bird in the Pear tree. I fixed it las night with dirty rice an' it was delicious. I doan tink the Pear tree would grow in de swamp, so I swapped it for a Satsuma.
Day 2
Dear Emile,
Your letter said you sent 2 turtle dove, but all I got was 2 scrawny pigeon. Anyway, I mixed them with andouille and made some gumbo out of dem.
Day 3
Dear Emile,
Why doan you sen me some crawfish? I'm tired of eating dem darned bird. I gave two of those prissy French chicken to Mrs. Fontenot over at Grand Chenier, and fed the tird one to my dog, Phideaux. Mrs. Fontenot needed some sparring partners for her fighting rooster.
Day 4
Dear Emile,
Mon Dieux! I tole you no more of dem bird. Deez four, what you call "calling bird" wuz so noisy you could hear dem all da' way to Lafayette. I used they necks for my crab traps, and fed the rest of dem to the gators.
Day 5
Dear Emile,
You finally sent something useful. I liked dem golden rings, me. I hocked dem at da' pawn shop in Sulphur and got enough money to fix the shaft on my shrimp boat, and to buy a round for da boys at the Raisin' Cane Lounge. Merci Beaucoup!
Day 6
Dear Emile,
Couchon! Back to da birds, you coonass turkey! Poor egg sucking Phideaux is scared to death ah dem six goose. He try to eat they eggs and they pecked the heck out ah his snout. Dem goose are damm good at eating cockroach around da' house, though. I may stuff one ah dem goose with erster dressing to serve him on Christmas Day.
Day 7
Dear Emile,
I'm gonna wring your fool neck next time I see you. Ole Boudreaux, da mailman, is ready to kill you, too. The crap from all dem bird is stinkin up his mailboat. He afraid someone will slip on dat stuff and gonna sue him. I let dem seven swan loose to swim on da bayou and some stupid duck hunter from Mississippi done blasted dem out da water. Talk to you tomorrow.
Day 8
Dear Emile,
Poor ole Boudreaux had to make 3 trips on his mailboat to deliver dem 8 maids-a-milking & der cows. One of dem cows got spooked by da alligators and almost tipped over da boat. I doan like dem shiftless maids, me. I told dem to get to work gutting fish and sweeping my shack--but dey say it wasn't in their contract. They probably tink they too good to skin all dem nutria I caught las night.
Day 9
Dear Emile,
What you trying to do? Boudreaux had to borrow da Cameron Ferry to carry these jumping twits you call lords-a-leaping across da bayou. As soon as dey got here dey wanted a tea break and crumpets. I doan know what dat means but I says, "Well la di da. You get Chicory coffee or nuthin." Mon Dieux, Emile, what I'm gonna feed all these bozos? They too snooty for fried nutria, and da cow ate up all my turnip green.
Day 10
Dear Emile,
You got to be out of you mind. If da mailman don't kill you, I will. Today he deliver 10 half nekkid floozies from Bourbon Street. Dey said they be "ladies dancing" but they doan act like ladies in front of dem Limey sailing boys. Dey almost left after one of them got bit by a water moccasin over by my out- house. I had to butcher 2 cows to feed toute le monde (everybody) and get toilet paper rolls. The Sears catalog wasn't good enough for dem hoity toity lords. Talk at you tomorrow.
Day 11
Dear Emile,
Where Y'at? Cherio and pip pip. You 11 Pipers Piping arrived today from the House of Blues, second lining as dey got off da boat. We fixed stuffed goose and beef jumbalaya, finished da whiskey, and we're having a fais-do-do. Da' new mailman drank a bottle of Jack Daniel, and he's having a good old time dancing with the floozies. Da' old mailman done jump off the Moss Bluff Bridge yesterday, screaming you name. If you happen to get a mysterious-looking, ticking package in da mail, don't open it.
Day 12
Dear Emile,
Me I'm sorry to tell you--but I am not your true love anymore. After the fais-do-do, I spent da night with Jacque, the head piper. We decide to open a restaurant and gentlemen's club on the bayou. The floozies--pardon me--ladies dancing can make $20 for a table dance, and the lords can be the waiters and valet park da boats. Since da' maids have no more cows to milk, I trained dem to set my crab traps, watch my trotlines, and run my shrimping business. We'll probably gross a million dollars next year.
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 08:32 |
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DRINKING AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE
(to the tune "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree")
Drinking around the Christmas tree at the Christmas party rush,
Faces are hung o'er the balcony, everybody is a lush.
Drinking around the Christmas tree, let the Christmas drunkards through,
Later we'll do some vomiting, and our arms will hug the loo.
You will get an upset stomach feeling when you taste
Vodka through your nose, oh golly,
Deck the halls with boughs of holly.
Drinking around the Christmas tree, your hangover's on its way,
Everybody's wearing ice pack hats in the new old-fashioned way.
(drunken sax solo.)
You will get an upset stomach feeling when you taste
Vodka through your nose, oh golly,
Deck the halls with boughs of holly.
Drinking around the Christmas tree, your hangover's on its way,
Everybody's wearing ice pack hats in the new old-fashioned way.
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 08:36 |
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A MOM'S NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
It was the night before Christmas,
When all through the abode,
Only one creature was stirring,
And she was cleaning the commode.
The children were finally sleeping,
All snug in their beds,
While visions of Nintendo 64 and Barbie,
Flipped through their heads.
The dad was snoring in front of the TV,
With a half-constructed bicycle on his knee.
So only the mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
Which made her sigh, "Now what's the matter?"
With toilet bowl brush still clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs, and saw the old man.
He was covered with ashes and soot, which fell with a shrug.
"Oh great," muttered the mom, "Now I have to clean the rug."
"Ho-ho-ho! cried Santa, I'm glad you're awake.
Your gift was especially difficult to make."
"Thanks, Santa, but all I want is some time alone.
"Exactly!" he chuckled, "I've made you a clone."
"A clone? she asked, What good is that?
Run along, Santa, I've no time for chit-chat."
"She'll cook, she'll dust, she'll mop every mess.
You'll relax, take it easy, watch The Young & the Restless."
"Fantastic!" the mom cheered.
"My dream come true!
I'll shop. I'll read,
I'll sleep a whole night through! "
From the room above, the youngest began to fret.
"Mommy?! I'm scared and I 'm wet."
The clone replied, "I'm coming, sweetheart."
"Hey," the mom smiled, "She knows her part."
The clone changed the small one, and hummed a tune,
As she bundled the child, in a blanket cocoon.
"You the best mommy ever. I really love you."
The clone smiled and sighed, "I love you, too."
The mom frowned and said, "Sorry, Santa, no deal.
That's my child's love, she's trying to steal."
Smiling wisely Santa said, "To me it is clear,
Only one loving mother, is needed here."
The mom kissed her child, and tucked her into bed.
"Thank you, Santa, for clearing my head.
I sometimes forget, it won't be very long,
When they'll be too old, for my cradle-song."
The clock on the mantle began to chime.
Santa whispered to the clone, "It works every time."
With the clone by his side Santa said, "Goodnight.
Merry Christmas, Mom! You'll be all right!"
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 08:37 |
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HOW TO TELL YOU'RE A GRINCH
* Your only contact with three spirits on Christmas Eve is gin, vodka and bourbon.
* You turn on the lawn sprinklers on Christmas Eve to keep carolers away.
* You buy all of your Christmas gifts at a store that also sells gas.
* Your favorite version of "A Christmas Carol" stars Bob Packwood or Bill Clinton.
* Your favorite version of "Babes in Toyland" stars Michael Jackson.
* Your favorite version of "The Nutcracker" stars Andrew Golata.
* You get your Christmas Tree at a rest stop at night.
* You give bathroom fixtures as Christmas gifts.
* Your prized Christmas ornament is Santa Claus shooting the moon.
* Your favorite Christmas movie is Jurassic Park.
* Your idea of Christmas dinner is a six pack of beer and a cheese log.
* You think "Ho, Ho, Ho" is a line from a Rocky movie.
* Your best Christmas tradition involves a fire and reindeer meat.
* You use your Christmas Club money to buy wrestling tickets.
* Your favorite version of "Silent Night" is sung by OJ Simpson.
* Your favorite version of "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas" is sung by the KKK choir (Red Neck version).
* Your favorite pastime is putting defective bulbs in your neighbors' string of Christmas lights or defacing Christmas lawn ornaments with egg nog.
* Your only holiday decoration is a rotting pumpkin.
* You reuse last year's Christmas cards and send them out under your own name.
* You steal light bulbs from you neighbor's outdoor display to replenish your own supply.
* You have dressed a dog or cat as Santa Claus, elf helper, or reindeer.
* You put out last year's stale candy canes for children.
* You enclose a shoddy and inferior gift from Target, Wal-Mart, or K-Mart in a Bloomingdale's or other prestige box to impress your friends.
* You make collect long distance phone calls to your family on Christmas day.
* At the office Christmas party, you horde huge stockpiles of goodies for later consumption at home.
* You steal the wreath from a parked car to use on your own.
* After an invitation to a friend's house, you bring a commercially produced fruitcake and try to pass it off as home made.
* You steal gifts from the Toys-for-Tots collection bins.
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 08:39 |
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SIGNS SANTA DOESN'T LIKE YOUR KID
* Kid's letter to north pole comes back stamped, "Dream on, Chester!"
* Kid asks for new bike, gets a pack of smokes.
* Along with presents, Santa leaves hefty bill for shipping and handling.
*By the time he gets to your house, all he has left are Styrofoam peanuts.
* Christmas day, your kid wakes up with a Reindeer head in his bed.
* Instead of "Naughty" or "Nice", Santa has him on the dork list.
* Sends him off on a Carnival Cruise with Kathie Lee.
* First words when kid gets on his lap are, "Touch my beard and I'll put the hurt on you."
* Labels on all your kid's toys read, "Straight from Craptown."
* Four words: "Off my lap, Tubby!"
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 08:40 |
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WAYS TO CONFUSE SANTA
* Instead of milk and cookies, leave him a salad, and a note explaining that you think he could stand to lose a few pounds.
* While he's in the house, go find his sleigh and write him a speeding ticket.
* Leave him a note, explaining that you've gone away for the holidays. Ask if he would mind watering your plants.
* While he's in the house, replace all his reindeer with exact replicas. Then wait and see what happens when he tries to get them to fly.
* Keep an angry bull in your living room. If you think a bull goes crazy when he sees a little red cape, wait until he sees that big, red Santa suit!
* Leave a note by the telephone, telling Santa that Mrs. Claus called and wanted to remind him to pick up some milk and a loaf of bread on his way home.
* Throw a surprise party for Santa when he comes down the chimney. Refuse to let him leave until the strippers arrive.
* While he's in the house, find the sleigh and sit in it. As soon as he comes back and sees you, tell him that he shouldn't have missed that last payment, and take off.
* Take everything out of your house as if it's just been robbed. When Santa arrives, show up dressed like a policeman and say, "Well, well. They always return to the scene of the crime."
* Leave out a copy of your Christmas list with last-minute changes and corrections.
* While he's in the house, cover the top of the chimney with barbed wire.
* Leave Santa a note, explaining that you've moved. Include a map with unclear and hard-to-read directions to your new house.
* Set a bear trap at the bottom of the chimney. Wait for Santa to get caught in it, and then explain that you're sorry, but from a distance, he looked like a bear.
* Paint "hoof-prints" all over your face and clothes. While he's in the house, go out on the roof. When he comes back up, act like you've been "trampled." Threaten to sue.
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 08:42 |
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SANTA'S LITTLE FRIEND
A little kid sits on Santa's lap, and Santa says, "What would you like for Christmas?"
The kid says, "A damn swingset."
Santa says, "You'll have to ask nicer than that if you want Santa to bring you presents. Let's try again. What else would you like?"
The kid says, "A damn sandbox for the side yard."
Santa says, "That's no way to talk to Santa. One more time. What else would you like for Christmas?"
The boy thinks for a minute, and then he says, "I want a damn trampoline in the front yard."
Santa lifts the boy off his lap and goes to talk to the kid's parents. He tells them what the kid said, and then says, "I know how to stop it. Don't get him anything for Christmas except dog doo. Put a pile of dog doo in the backyard where he wants the swingset, put another pile in the side yard where he wants the sandbox, and another pile in the front yard where he wants the trampoline. That should make him change his tune."
Christmas morning the kid goes downstairs to open his presents, and there aren't any. He runs out the back door, looks around, and comes back in. He runs out the side door, looks around, and comes back in. He runs out the front door, looks around, and comes back in, shaking his head.
His father says, "What's wrong, son?"
The kid says, "Santa brought me a damn dog, but I can't find him."
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 08:44 |
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SANTA'S ANGEL
Santa was very upset. It was Christmas Eve and NOTHING was going right!
Mrs. Claus had burned all the cookies. The elves were complaining about not getting paid for the overtime they had while making the toys. The reindeer had been drinking all afternoon and were dead drunk. To make matters worse, they had taken the sleigh out for a spin earlier in the day and had crashed it into a tree.
Santa was furious. "I can't believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over the world in just a few hours and all of my reindeer are drunk, the elves are on strike and I don't even have a Christmas tree!"
He continued, "And I sent that stupid Little Angel out hours ago to find a tree and he isn't even back yet! What am I going to do?"
Just then, the Little Angel opened the front door and stepped in from the snowy night, dragging a Christmas tree behind him.
He said, "Yo, fat man! Where do you want me to stick the tree this year?"
And thus the tradition of angels atop the Christmas tree came to pass........
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 08:47 |
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AN CHRISTMAS
'Twas da night befo' Christmas and all in da hood,
Not a homie was stirring cuz it was all good.
Da tube socks was hung on da window sill
and we all had smiles up on our grill.
Mookie and BeBe was snug in da crib
in the back bedroom, cuz dat's how we live.
And Mom's in her do-rag and me with my nine,
had just gotten busy, cuz girlfriend is fine.
All of a sudden a lowrider rolled by,
Bumpin' phat beats cuz da system's fly.
I bounced to da window at a quarter pas'
'Bout ready to pop a cap in somebody's ass!
well anyway....
I yelled to my lady, "Yo peep dis!"
She said, "Stop frontin' & just mind yo' bidness."
I said, "For real doe, come check dis out."
We weren't even buggin', no worries, no doubt.
Cuz bumpin' an thumpin' from around da way
Was Santa, 8 reindeer and a sleigh.
Da beats was kickin', da ride was phat
I said, "Yo Red Dawg, you all dat!"
He threw up a sign and yelled to his boyz,
"Ay yo, give it up, let's make some noise!"
To da top of da projects & across da strip mall,
We gots ta go, I got a booty call!"
He pulled up his ride on da top a da roof,
and sippin' on a 40, he busted a move.
I yelled up to Santa, "Yo ain't got no stack!"
He said, "Damn homie, deese projects is wack!
But don't worry black, cuz I gots da skillz
I learnt back when I hadda pay da billz."
Out from his bag he pulled 3 small tings
a credit card, a knife, and a bobby pin.
He slid down the fire exscape smoove as a cat,
and busted da window wid a b-ball bat.
I said, "Whassup, Santa? Whydya bust my place?"
He said, "You best get on up out my face!"
His threads was all leatha, his chains was all gold,
His sneaks was Puma and dey was 5 years old.
He dropped down da duffle, Clippers logo on da side.
Santa broke out da loot and my mouf popped open wide.
A wink of his eye and a shine off his gold toof,
He cabbage patched his way back onto da roof
He jumped in his hooptie wid rims made a chrome,
To tap dat booty waitin' at home.
And all I heard as he cruised outta sight,
was a loud and hearty.....
"WEEESST SIIIIDE!!!!!!! Good Night!"
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 08:58 |
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THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS - INTERNET STYLE
'Twas the night before Christmas,
When all through the Net,
There were hacker's a surfing.
Geeks? Yeah, you bet.
The e-mails were stacked by the modem with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The newbies were nestled all snug by their screens,
While visions of Java danced in their dreams.
My wife on the sofa and me with a snack,
We just settled down at my rig (it's a Mac).
When out in the Web there arose such a clatter,
I jumped to the site to see what was the matter.
To a new page my Mac flew like a flash,
Then made a slight gurgle. It started to crash!!
I gasped at the thought and started to grouse,
Then turned my head sideways and clicked on my mouse.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
My Mac jumped to a page that wasn't quite clear.
When the image resolved, so bright and so quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!
More rapid than mainframes,
more graphics they came,
Then Nick glanced toward my screen,
My Mac called them by name;
"Now Compaq! Now Acer!", my speaker did reel;
"On Apple! On Gateway!" Santa started to squeal!
"Jump onto the circuits! And into the chip!
Now speed it up! Speed it up! Make this thing hip!"
The screen gave a flicker, he was into my RAM,
Then into my room rose a full hologram!
He was dressed in all red, from his head to his shoes,
Which were black (the white socks he really should lose).
He pulled out some discs he had stored in his backpack.
Santa looked like a dude who was rarin' to hack!
His eyes, how they twinkled! His glasses, how techno!
This ain't the same Santa that I used to know!
With a wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
Santa soon let me know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, gave my Mac a quick poke,
And accessed my C drive with only a stroke.
He defragged my hard drive, and added a SIMM,
Then threw in some cool games, just on a whim!
He worked without noise, his fingers they flew!
He distorted some pictures with Kai's Power Goo!
He updated Office, Excel and Quicken,
Then added a screensaver with a red clucking chicken!
My eyes widened a bit, my mouth stood agape,
As he added the latest version of Netscape.
The drive gave a whirl, as if it were pleased,
St. Nick coyly smiled, the computer appeased.
Then placing his finger on the bridge of his nose,
Santa turned into nothing but ones and zeros!
He flew back into my screen and through my uplink,
Back into the net with barely a blink.
But I heard his sweet voice as he flew from my sight,
"Happy surfing to all, and to all a good byte!"
By Hugh Drumm & Vincent Ambrose
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:00 |
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A MICROSOFT NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except Papa's mouse.
The computer was humming, the icons were hopping,
As Papa did last-minute Internet shopping.
The stockings were hung by the modem with care
In hope that St. Nicholas would bring new software.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of computer games danced in their heads.
PageMaker for Billy, and Quicken for Dan,
And Carmen Sandiego for Pamela Ann.
The letters to Santa had been sent out by Mom,
To santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com -
Which has now been re-routed to Washington State
Because Santa's workshop has been bought by Bill Gates.
All the elves and reindeer have had to skedaddle
To flashy new quarters in suburban Seattle.
After centuries of a life that was simple and spare,
St. Nicholas is suddenly a new billionaire,
With a shiny red Porsche in the place of his sleigh,
And a house on Lake Washington that's just down the way
From where Bill has his mansion. The old fellow preens
In black Gucci boots and red Calvin Klein jeans.
The elves have stock options and desks with a view,
Where they write computer code for Johnny and Sue.
No more dolls or tin soldiers or little toy drums
Will be under the tree, only compact disk ROMS
With the Microsoft label. So spin up your drive,
From now on Christmas runs only on Win95.
More rapid than eagles the competitors came,
And Bill whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
"Now, ADOBE! now, CLARIS! now, INTUIT! too,
Now, APPLE! and NETSCAPE! you are all through.
It is Microsoft's SANTA that the kids can't resist,
It's the ultimate software with a traditional twist -
Recommended by no less than the jolly old elf,
And on the package, a picture of Santa himself.
Get 'em young, keep 'em long, is Microsoft's scheme,
And a merger with Santa is a marketer's dream.
To the top of the NASDAQ! To the top of the Dow!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away - wow!"
And Mama in her 'kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
The whir and the hum of our satellite platter.
As it turned toward that new Christmas star in the sky,
The SANTALITE owned by the Microsoft guy.
As I sprang from my bed and was turning around,
My computer turned on with a Jingle-Bells sound.
And there on the screen was a smiling Bill Gates
Next to jolly old Santa, two arm-in-arm mates.
And I heard them exclaim in voice so bright,
Have a Microsoft Christmas, and to all a good night!
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:02 |
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SANTA'S GREETING CARD
Money is scarce
Times they are hard,
Here's your damn
Old Christmas Card!
Inflation has taken away
The things that I hold most dear,
My workshop...my reindeer...my sleigh.
Now I'm making my rounds on a donkey
He's old...he's crippled...he's slow.
So you'll know if I don't see you at Christmas
That I'm out on my a@@ in the snow!
MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Love, Santa
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:08 |
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LET IT SNOW
Santa checked his list
He even checked it twice
and he found out that you haven't been nice.
Coal's too expensive
so here's the scoop,
All you get for Christmas this year is
SNOWMAN POOP!
Aug. 12
Moved to our new home in New Jersey. It is so beautiful here. The hills are so picturesque. Can hardly wait to see them with snow covering them. God's Country. I love it here!
Oct. 14
New Jersey is the most beautiful place on earth. The leaves are turning all different colors. I love the shades of red and orange. Went for a ride through some beautiful hills and spotted some deer. They are so graceful, certainly they are the most peaceful animals on earth. This must be Paradise?I love it here!
Nov. 11
Deer season will start soon. I can't imagine anyone wanting to kill such an elegant creature. The very symbol of peace and tranquility. Hope it will snow soon. I love it here!
Dec 2
It snowed last night. Woke up to find everything blanketed in white. It looks like a postcard. We went outside and cleaned the snow off the steps and shoveled the driveway. We had a snowball fight (I won) and when the snowplow came by, we had to shovel the driveway again. What a beautiful place. Mother nature in perfect harmony. I love New Jersey!
Dec 12
More snow last night. I love it. The snowplow did his trick again (that rascal). A winter wonderland?I love it here!
Dec 19
More snow last night?Couldn't get out of the driveway to get to work this time! I'm exhausted from shoveling. That damn snowplow!
Dec 22
More of that white s@@t fell last night. I've got blisters on my hands from shoveling. I think the snowplow man hides around the corner and waits until I'm done shoveling this driveway. A@@hole!
Dec 25
"White Christmas" my busted a@@! More fri@@en snow. If I ever get my hands on that son of a b@@ch who drives that snowplow, I swear I'll castrate the dumb b@2tard. Don't know why they don't use more salt on the roads to melt this fri@@en ICE!
Dec 28
More white s@@t last night. Been inside since Christmas Day except for shoveling out the driveway every time "Snowplow Harry" comes by. Can't go anywhere, cars buried in a mountain of white s@@t. The weatherman says to expect another 10" of the s@@t tonight. Do you know how many shovels full of snow 10" is?
Jan. 1
Happy Damn New Year, the weatherman was wrong (again). We got 34" of the white shit this time. At this rate it won't melt before the 4th of July. The snowplow got stuck up the road, and the sh@@head had the ba@@s to come to the door and ask to borrow my shovel. After I told him I've broken 6 shovels already, shoveling all the s@@t he pushed into the driveway, I broke my last one over his damn head!
Jan. 4
Finally got out of the house today. Went to the store to get food and on the way back, a damn deer ran in front of the car and I hit the b@@tard. Did about $3,000 worth of damage to the car. Those damn beasts ought to be killed. Wish the hunters had killed them all last November.
May 3
Took the car to the garage in town. Would you believe the thing is rotting out from all that damn salt they keep dumping all over the road? Car looks like a piece of s@@t!
May 10
Moved to Florida! I can't imagine why anyone in their damn mind would ever want to live in that God forsaken State of New Jersey!
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:15 |
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CHIPMUNKS ROASTING ON AN OPEN FIRE
(to the tune of Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire)
Chipmunks roasting on an open fire
Frostbite chewing on your nose.
Yuletide carolers being thrown on a fire
And folks dressed up like buffaloes.
Everybody knows a turkey slaughtered in the snow
Helps to make the season right.
Tiny tots with their eyes all gouged out
Will find it hard to sleep tonight.
They know that Santa's on his way
He's loaded lots of guns and bullets on his sleigh (slay?)
And every mother's child is gonna spy
To see if reindeer really scream when they die.
And so I'm offering this simple phrase
To kids from 1 to 92.
Although it's been said many times, many ways;
Merry Christmas,
Merry Christmas,
Merry Christmas,
Up yours!
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:17 |
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A DIETER'S CHRISTMAS
'Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips
were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care
in hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.
While Mama in her my girdle and I in chin straps
had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash
tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.
The marshmallow look of the new fallen snow
sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.
When what to my wandering eyes should appear:
a marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick
I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.
The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS
a Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.
From the top of the scales to the top of the hall
now dash away pounds now dash away all.
Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress
my clothes were all bulging from too much excess.
My droll little mouth and my round little belly
they shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
I spoke not a word but went straight to my work
ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.
And laying a finger beside my heartburn
I gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned.
I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry
if temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by.
And I mumbled again
as I turned for the night
in the morning I'll starve...
'til I take that first bite!
'Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste
At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).
I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared.
The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."
As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt.
I said to myself, as I only can
"You can't spend the winter disguised as a man!"
So...away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip.
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
"Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won't have a cookie...not even a lick.
I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick.
I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore...
But isn't that what January is for?
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:18 |
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I'VE HAD CHRISTMAS UP TO HERE!
Who ordered all this nauseating cheer?
I've had Christmas up to here!
I'm mad and I'm not gonna take it anymore.
So here's the little plot I've got in store:
Up on the roof with nails and saws,
I'll build a trap for Santa Claus,
And when he lands in that hokey slay
I'll make this Christmas crud go away.
Ho Ho Ho, you'd better know
I've got a way to make it so!
Up on the housetop click, click, click
Throw a big bag over old Saint Nick!
Down from the roof top out in back
Santa, Reindeer, sleigh and pack,
Watch his Yuletide spirits droop
With juggles locked in the chicken coop.
Ho Ho Ho, you've gotta know
Fatso's tied up head to toe!
This little plan will work because
I'm gonna kidnap Santa Claus!
All of you kiddies are out of luck.
This year's Christmas one dead duck.
Let all the little brats scream and shout
I ain't never letting Fatso out!
Ho Ho Ho, won't let him go.
Not for even tons of dough!
I can't dream of a scene so nice
When I go and put Fuzzy Face on ice!
Bye bye to sleigh bells that gave me grief.
Bye bye to caroling what a relief.
Best of all that blasted cheer
Won't be annoying me again next year!
Ho Ho Ho, now you know
Dear old Santa has to go!
Without Fatso it's understood
Christmas is history and gone for good!
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:20 |
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WHY SANTA IS A WOMAN
I think Santa Claus is a woman.......
I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he's a she. Think about it. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull it all off!
For starters, the vast majority of men don't even think about selecting gifts until Christmas Eve. Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. On this count alone, I'm convinced Santa is a woman. Surely, if he were a man, everyone in the universe would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating musical Chia Pet under the tree, still in the bag.
Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all, there would be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted and strapped on to the rear bumper of the sleigh amid wide-eyed, desperate claims that buck season had been extended. Blitzen's rack would already be on the way to the taxidermist.
Even if the male Santa DID have reindeer, he'd still have transportation problems because he would inevitably get lost up there in the snow and clouds and then refuse to stop and ask for directions.
Other reasons why Santa can't possibly be a man:
-Men can't pack a bag.
-Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.
-Men would feel their masculinity is threatened having to be seen with all those elves.
-Men don't answer their mail.
-Men would refuse to allow their physique to be described even in jest as anything remotely resembling a "bowlful of jelly."
-Men aren't interested in stockings unless somebody's wearing them.
-Having to do the Ho Ho Ho thing would seriously inhibit their ability to pick up women.
Finally, being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment. I can buy the fact that other mythical holiday characters are men.......
-Father Time shows up once a year unshaven and looking ominous. Definite guy.
-Cupid flies around carrying weapons.
-Uncle Sam is a politician who likes to point fingers.
Any one of these individuals could pass the testosterone screening test. But not St. Nick. Not a chance.
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:23 |
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TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE A REDNECK CHRISTMAS
It was the night before Christmas,
and all through the trailer park,
not a pop-top was poppin',
not even Ole Blue barked.
Our stockin's was hung
over the space heater with care,
in the hopes that Santy
would fill 'em with Viennas and beer.
The kids was asleep
in their NASCAR pj's,
Dreamin' of Goo Goo Clusters,
Moon Pies, and Milkyway's.
And Earlene in her curlers
and me in my Earnhardt cap,
had just settled into our La-Z-Boys
for Wheel of Fortune and a nap.
Then out in the vacant lot
I heard such a commotion,
I thought it was neighbor Clyde,
finally got his T'bird in motion.
I heaved out of my recliner
and to the window I flew,
Busted out the screen
and hollered to Ole Blue.
The moon was shinin down
on my old wrecked cars,
so bright they was sparklin'
like rusty old stars.
And I couldn't believe
my own hardworkin' eyes,
when a jacked-up Chevy pickup
come flyin' through the sky!
Faster'n Ole Ironhead
his possums they came,
and he whooped and hollered
and called 'em by name:
"Git up Sooner! Hi Duke!
Move yer tails Yaller and Spud!
On Blackie! On Queenie!
You mind me Duchess and Bud!"
"To the top of the satellite dish!
To the top of the shed!
Now move it n' Step on it!
Ya'll get out the lead!"
You know how on our old road
whenev'r a car goes by,
there's all this dirt
that flies up into the sky?
That's how this crew
went straight on up to my roof,
with that pickup full of toys,
a real nice gun rack, and Redneck Santa too.
Then 'fore I could pop my teeth in
I heerd up on the tin,
the scrabbling around
of them flying possums of his'n.
I yanked my head back in the trailer
and hitched up my shorts,
Down the dryer vent Redneck Santa came
with a grunt and a snort!
He was dressed in red-and-green camo
from his neck to his feet,
and I had to give him credit
he still had most of his teeth.
Looked like stuff from Earlene's yard sale
slung on his back,
There was flyswatters an' Tupperware,
an' 8-tracks stickin' out of his pack.
When he winked his eye
I knew fer sure he'd treat us right,
why he just might even
leave me some ammo tonight!
I stood there dreamin' of a whitetail
while I watched him work,
then he stopped and like a real man,
let out a fart and a burp.
He topped off our stockin's
with Moon Pies and bottle rockets,
then squoze up that dryer vent
like Spam in your pocket.
He jumped in his pickup,
laid down on the horn,
And I'm not lyin',
they took off with their possum tails flyin'.
But I heard him holler
as he headed for the 7-11,
"Merry Christmas to all!
And may all rednecks get into heav'n!"
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:31 |
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A CHRISTMAS NOTE FROM MOM
Dear Darling Son and That Person You Married:
Merry Christmas to you and please don't worry. I'm just fine considering that I can't breathe or eat. The important thing is that you have a nice holiday, thousands of miles away from your ailing mother. I've sent along my last ten dollars in this card, which I hope you'll spend on my grandchildren. God knows their mother never buys them anything nice. They look so thin in their pictures, poor babies.
Thank you so much for the Christmas flowers, dear boy. I put them in the freezer so they'll stay fresh for my grave. Which reminds me -- we buried Grandma last week. I know she died years ago, but I got to yearning for a good funeral so Aunt Viola and I dug her up and had the services all over again. I would have invited you but I know that woman you live with would have never let you come. I bet she's never even watched that videotape of my hemorrhoid surgery, has she?
Well son, it's time for me to crawl off to bed now. I lost my cane beating off muggers last week, but don't you worry about me. I'm also getting used to the cold since they turned my heat off and am grateful because the frost on my bed numbs the constant pain. Now don't you even think about sending any more money because I know you need it for those expensive family vacations you take every year. Give my love to my darling grandbabies and my regards to whatever-her-name-is -- the one with the black roots who stole you screaming from my bosom.
Merry Christmas.
Love, Mom
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:32 |
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A COOL CHRISTMAS
'Twas the night before Christmas and all thru the pad,
Not a hep cat was swinging and that's nowhere, dad.
The stove was hung up in that stocking routine,
Like, maybe the fat man would soon make the scene.
The kids that fell by had just made the street;
I was ready for Snoresville, and man, was I beat.
When there started a rumble that came on real frantic,
So I opened the window to figure the panic.
I saw a slick rod that was making fat tracks,
Souped up by eight ponies, all wearing hat racks;
And a funny old geezer was flipping his lid.
He told them to make it, and man, like they did!
They were out of the chute, making time like a bat,
Turning the quarter in eight seconds flat.
They parked by the smokestack in bunches and clusters,
And Chubby slid down, coming on like gangbusters.
His threads were from Cubesville and I had to chuckle,
In front, not in back, was his Ivy league buckle!
And the mop on his chin had a button-down collar,
And with that red nose he looked like a baller.
Like he was the squarest, the most absolute,
But let's face it, who cares when he left all that loot?
He laid the jazz on me and peeled from the gig,
Wailing, "Have a cool Yule, Man!" and clutched off in his rig.
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:34 |
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HOLIDAY MEMORANDUM
To: All Employees
From: Management
Subject: Office conduct during the Christmas season
Effective immediately, employees should keep in mind the following guidelines in compliance with FROLIC (the Federal Revelry Office and Leisure Industry Council).
1. Running aluminum foil through the paper shredder to make tinsel is discouraged.
2. Playing Jingle Bells on the push-button phone is forbidden (it runs up an incredible long distance bill).
3. Work requests are not to be filed under "Bah humbug."
4. Company cars are not to be used to go over the river and through the woods to Grandma's house.
5. All fruitcake is to be eaten BEFORE July 25.
6. Egg nog will NOT be dispensed in vending machines.
In spite of all this, the staff is encouraged to have a Happy Holiday.
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AfterDawn Addict
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18. December 2005 @ 09:40 |
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MERRY CHRISTMAS ALL,FROM ME IRELAND
THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS
It's a week after Christmas, I'm crabby and I'm broke.
I'm so full of ham and fruitcake, I think I'm gonna croak!
It's nice to see the relatives. I wonder when they'll leave?
They've been camping in my bathroom since early Christmas Eve.
They're eating everything in sight and sleeping in my bed.
I been sacked out in the basement with my old beagle Fred.
The relatives have all gone out and left their screaming brats.
The toilet bowl is all plugged up and I can't find the cat!
It's Christmastime at my house, the relatives are here.
They eat me out of house and home and drink up all my beer.
I love the decorations and the sleigh bells in the snow,
But I wish those pesky relatives would take their kids and go!
Those cookie crunchers fed the dog a twenty pound rib roast.
His feet are sticking in the air like skinny old fence posts.
Now they're in a free-for-all the girls against the boys.
They're fighting over boxes 'cause they're bored with all their toys.
My mother-in-law is snoring in my favorite TV chair.
Those kids are stringing lights on her and tinseling her hair.
I oughta wake her up before the fireworks begin,
But I wanna see those blue sparks fly when they plug her in!
I love the decorations and the sleigh bells in the snow,
But I wish those pesky relatives would take their kids and go!
This message has been edited since posting. Last time this message was edited on 18. December 2005 @ 10:11
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andmerr
Suspended permanently
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18. December 2005 @ 09:53 |
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It was coming up to Christmas and Sammy asked his mum if he could have a new bike. So, she told him that the best idea would be to write to Santa Claus. But Sam, having just played a vital role in the school nativity play, said he would prefer to write to the baby Jesus. So his mum told him that would be fine.
Sam went to his room and wrote ' Dear Jesus, I have been a very good boy and would like to have a bike for Christmas.' But he wasn't very happy when he read it over. So he decided to try again and this time he wrote 'Dear Jesus, I'm a good boy most of the time and would like a bike for Christmas.' He read it back and wasn't happy with that one either. He tried a third version. 'Dear Jesus, I could be a good boy if I tried hard and especially if I had a new bike.' He read that one too, but he still wasn't satisfied.
So, he decided to go out for a walk while he thought about a better approach. After a short time he passed a house with a small statue of the Virgin Mary in the front garden. He crept in, stuffed the statue under his coat, hurried home and hid it under the bed. Then he wrote this letter. 'Dear Jesus, If you want to see your mother again, you'd better send me a new bike.'
This message has been edited since posting. Last time this message was edited on 18. December 2005 @ 09:54
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Member
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18. December 2005 @ 11:24 |
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@ireland
Man you have the Christmas Spirit, Or have you been into the Christmas Spirits?
Government big enough to supply everything you need is powerful enough to take everything you have.
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mcdm
Suspended due to non-functional email address
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23. December 2005 @ 00:02 |
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Silly but fun for the kids
What goes HO! HO! HO! THUD:- Father Christmas laughing his head off
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