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12 Days of Christmas Memo

To: All
Date: December 17
Subject: New "Twelve Days of Christmas" Policy


The recent announcement that Donner and Blitzen have elected to take the early reindeer retirement package has triggered a good deal of concern about whether they will be replaced, and about other restructuring decisions at the North Pole.

Streamlining is due to the North Pole's loss of dominance in the season's gift distribution business. Home Shopping TV channels and mail order catalogues have diminished Santa's market share. He and the Board could not sit idly by and permit further erosion of the profit picture.

The reindeer downsizing was made possible through purchase of a late model Japanese sled for the CEO's annual trip. Improved productivity from Dasher and Dancer, who summered at the Harvard Business School, is anticipated. Reduction in the reindeer will also lessen airborne environmental emissions for which the North Pole has received unfavorable press (gas and solid waste).

We're pleased to inform you that Rudolph's role will not be disturbed. Tradition still counts for something at the North Pole!

Management denies, in the strongest possible language, the earlier leak that Rudolph's nose get red, not from the cold, but from substance abuse. Calling Rudolph "a lush who was into the sauce and never did pull his share of the load" was an unfortunate comment, made by one of Santa's helpers and taken out of context at a time of the year when they are known to be under 'executive stress'.

As for further restructuring, today's global challenges require the North Pole to continue to look for better, more competitive steps. Effective immediately, the following economy measures are to take place in the "Twelve Days of Christmas" music subsidiary:

1) The partridge will be retained, but the pear tree, which never produced the cash crop forecasted, will be replaced by a plastic hanging plant, providing considerable savings in maintenance;

2) Two turtle doves represent a redundancy that is simply not cost effective. In addition, their romance during working hours could not be condoned. The positions are, therefore, eliminated;

3) The three French hens will remain intact. After all, everyone loves the French;

4) The four calling birds will be replaced by an automated voice mail system, with a call waiting option. An analysis is underway to determine who the birds have been calling, how often and how long they talked;

5) The five golden rings have been put on hold by the Board of Directors. Maintaining a portfolio based on one commodity could have negative implications for institutional investors. Diversification into other precious metals, as well as a mix of T-Bills and high technology stocks, appear to be in order;

6) The six geese-a-laying constitutes a luxury which can no longer be afforded. It has long been felt that the production rate of one egg per goose per day was an example of the general decline in productivity. Three geese will be let go, and an upgrading in the selection procedure by personnel will assure management that, from now on, every goose it gets will be a good one;

7) The seven swans-a-swimming is obviously a number chosen in better times. The function is primarily decorative. Mechanical swans are on order. The current swans will be retrained to learn some new strokes, thereby enhancing their outplacement;

8) As you know, the eight maids-a-milking concept has been under heavy scrutiny by the EEOC. A male/female balance in the workforce is being sought. The more militant maids consider this a dead-end job with no upward mobility. Automation of the process may permit the maids to try a-mending, a-mentoring or a-mulching;

9) Nine ladies dancing has always been an odd number. This function will be phased out as these individuals grow older and can no longer do the steps;

10) Ten Lords-a-leaping is overkill. The high cost of Lords, plus the expense of international air travel, prompted the Compensation Committee to suggest replacing this group with ten out-of-work congressmen. While leaping ability may be somewhat sacrificed, the savings are significant as we expect an oversupply of unemployed congressmen this year;

11) Eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming is a simple case of the band getting too big. A substitution with a string quartet, a cutback on new music, and no uniforms, will produce savings which will drop right to the bottom line;

Overall we can expect a substantial reduction in assorted people, fowl, animals and related expenses. Though incomplete, studies indicate that stretching deliveries over twelve days is inefficient. If we can drop ship in one day, service levels will be improved.

Regarding the lawsuit filed by the attorney's association seeking expansion to include the legal profession ("thirteen lawyers-a-suing"), a decision is pending.

Deeper cuts may be necessary in the future to remain competitive. Should that happen, the Board will request management to scrutinize the Snow White Division to see if seven dwarfs is the right number.

 

Christmas Cake Recipe

You'll need the following:

1 cup of water
1 cup of sugar
4 large brown eggs
2 cups of dried fruit
1 teaspoon of salt
1 cup of brown sugar
Lemon juice
Nuts
1 bottle of whisky

Sample the whisky to check for quality. Take a large bowl. Check the whisky again. To be sure it's the
highest quality, pour one level cup and drink. Repeat. Turn on the electric mixer, beat one cup of butter
in a large fluffy bowl. Add one teaspoon of sugar and beat again. Make sure the whisky is still OK.
Cry another tup. Tune up the mixer. Beat two leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried
fruit. Mix on the turner. If the fired druit gets stuck in the beaterers, pry it goose with a drewscriver.
Sample the whisky to check for tonsisticity. Next, sift two cups of salt. Or something. Who cares?
Check the whisky. Now sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts. Add one table. Spoon the sugar or something. Whatever you can find. Grease the oven. Turn the cake tin to 350 degrees. Don't forget
to beat off the turner. Throw the bowl out of the window. Check the whisky again and go to bed.

 

Letter From Santa:

2 Cold Street
North Pole, Canada
H0H 0H0

I have been watching you very closely to see if you have been good this year, and since you have, I will be telling my elves to make some goodies for me to leave under your tree at Christmas. I was going to bring you all the gifts from "The Twelve Days of Christmas", but we had a little problem up here. The twelve fiddlers fiddling, have all come down with "VD" from fiddling with the ten ladies dancing. The eleven lords a leaping have knocked up the eight maids a milking, and the nine pipers playing, have been arrested for doing weird things to the seven swans a swimming. The six geese a laying, four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree, have me up to my butt in bird crap.

On top of all this, Mrs. Claus is going through menopause, eight of my reindeer are in heat, the elves have joined Gay Liberation, and those dumbass Newfoundlanders have re-scheduled Christmas for the 5th of February.

Sincerely,
Santa

 

Christmas Eve Car Accident

Three men die in a car accident Christmas Eve. They all find themselves at the pearly gates waiting to enter Heaven. On entering they must present something "Christmassy" to show they remember the holiday, or off to hell they go.

The first man searches his pocket, and finds some Mistletoe, so he is allowed in.

The second man presents a candy cane, so he too is allowed in.

The third man pulls out a pair of panties.

Confused at this last gesture, St. Peter asks, "How do these represent Christmas?"

"They're Carol's."

 

Why doesn't Santa Clause have any children?
>
>
>
Because he only comes once a year and it's down a chimney!!!!!!!!!!!

 

My fav joke from the 3rd grade.

What's the difference between a snow man and a snow woman?


Snow balls.

 

What takes longer to build: a snowman or a snowwoman?



Answer: snowwoman= It takes longer because you have to hollow out the head!!!!!!!!!!!
LOL

 

Sexist

 

A PUPPY'S 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS



On the first day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
The Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the second day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the third day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the fourth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the fifth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the sixth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the seventh day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Seven scraps of wrapping paper
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the eighth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Eight tiny reindeer fragments
Seven scraps of wrapping paper
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the ninth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
My wreath in nine pieces
Eight tiny reindeer fragments
Seven scraps of wrapping paper
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the tenth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Ten Christmas cards I shoulda mailed
My wreath in nine pieces
Eight tiny reindeer fragments
Seven scraps of wrapping paper
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
Eleven unwrapped presents
Ten Christmas cards I shoulda mailed
My wreath in nine pieces
Eight tiny reindeer fragments
Seven scraps of wrapping paper
Six yards of soggy ribbon
Five chewed-up stockings
Four broken window candles
Three punctured ornaments
Two leaking bubble lights
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me
A dozen puppy kisses and I forgot all about the other eleven days.

 

WRAPPING PRESENTS WITH A CAT



1. Clear large space on table for wrapping present.

2. Go to wardrobe and collect bag in which present is contained, and close door.

3. Open door and remove cat from wardrobe.

4. Go to cupboard and retrieve rolls of wrapping paper.

5. Go back and remove cat from cupboard.

6. Go to drawer and collect transparent sticky tape, ribbons, scissors, labels, etc.

7. Lay out present and wrapping materials on table, to enable wrapping strategy to be formed.

8. Go back to drawer to get string, remove cat that has been in the drawer since last visit, and collect string.

9. Remove present from bag.

10. Remove cat from bag.

11. Open box to check present, remove cat from box, replace present.

12. Lay out paper to enable cutting to size.

13. Cut the paper to size, trying to keep the cutting line straight.

14. Throw away first sheet because cat tried to chase the scissors and tore paper.

15. Cut second sheet of paper to size by putting cat in the bag the present came out of.

16. Place present on cut-to-size paper.

17. Lift up edges of paper to seal in present, wonder why edges now don't reach, and find cat between present and paper. Remove cat and retry.

18. Place object on paper, to hold in place, while cutting transparent sticky tape.

19. Spend next 20 minutes carefully trying to remove transparent sticky tape from cat with pair of nail scissors.

20. Seal paper down with transparent sticky tape, making corners as neat as possible.

21. Look for roll of ribbon; chase cat down hall and retrieve ribbon.

22. Try to wrap present with ribbon in a two-directional turn.

23. Re-roll up ribbon and remove paper that is now torn, due to cat's enthusiasm in chasing ribbon end.

24. Repeat steps 12-22 until down to last sheet of paper.

25. Decide to skip steps 12-16 in order to save time and reduce risk of losing last sheet of paper. Retrieve old cardboard box that you know is right size for sheet of paper.

26. Put present in box, and tie down with string.

27. Remove string, open box and remove cat.

28. Put all packing materials in bag with present and head for lockable room.

29. Once inside room, lock door and start to re-lay out packing materials.

30. Remove cat from box, unlock door, put cat outside door, close door and re-lock.

31. Lay out last sheet of paper. (Admittedly this is difficult in the small area of the toilet, but try your best!)

32. Seal box, wrap with paper and start repairs by very carefully sealing down tears with transparent sticky tape. Now tie up with ribbon and decorate with bows to hide worst affected areas.

33. Label, then sit back and admire your handiwork, congratulating yourself on making good of a bad job.

34. Unlock door, and go to kitchen to make drink and feed cat.

35. Spend next 15 minutes looking for cat, before coming to obvious conclusion.

36. Unwrap present, untie box and remove cat.

37. Retrieve all discarded sheets of wrapping paper, feed cat and retire to lockable room for last attempt, making certain you are alone and the door is locked.

38. At time of handing over present, smile sweetly at receiver's face, as they try and hide their contempt at being handed such a badly wrapped present.

39. Swear to yourself that next year, you will get the store to wrap the darn thing for you.

 

A CAT'S 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS



On the twelfth day of Christmas my human gave to me:

Twelve bags of catnip,

Eleven tasty cat treats,

Ten ornaments hanging,

Nine wads of tissue,

Eight peacock feathers,

Seven stolen Q-tips,

Six feathered balls,

Five milk jug rings,

Four munchy house plants,

Three running faucets,

Two fuzzy mice,

And a hamster in a plastic ball!!

 

TWAS A COMPUTER CHRISTMAS



'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the shop,
The computers were whirring; they never do stop.
The power was on and the temperature right,
In hopes that the input would feed back that night.

The system was ready, the program was coded,
And memory drums had been carefully loaded;
While adding a Christmasy glow to the scene,
The lights on the console, flashed red, white and green.

When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
The programmer ran to see what was the matter.
Away to the hallway he flew like a flash,
Forgetting his key in his curious dash.

He stood in the hallway and looked all about,
When the door slammed behind him, and he was locked out.
Then, in the computer room what should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

And a little old man, who with scarcely a pause,
Chuckled: "My name is Santa...the last name is Claus."
The computer was startled, confused by the name,
Then it buzzed as it heard the old fellow exclaim:

"This is Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen,
And Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen."
With all these odd names, it was puzzled anew;
It hummed and it clanked, and a main circuit blew.

It searched in its memory core, trying to "think";
Then the multi-line printer went out on the blink.
Unable to do its electronic job,
It said in a voice that was almost a sob:

"Your eyes - how they twinkle - your dimples so merry...
Your cheeks so like roses, your nose like a cherry,
Your smile - all these things, I've been programmed to know,
And at data-recall, I am more than so-so;"

"But your name and your address (computers can't lie),
Are things that I just cannot identify.
You've a jolly old face and a little round belly,
That shakes when you laugh like a bowlful of jelly."

"My scanners can see you, but still I insist,
Since you're not in my program, you cannot exist!"
Old Santa just chuckled a merry "ho, ho,"
And sat down to type out a quick word or so.

The keyboard clack-clattered, its sound sharp and clean,
As Santa fed this "data" to the machine:
"Kids everywhere know me; I come every year;
The presents I bring add to everyone's cheer;

But you won't get anything - that's plain to see;
Too bad your programmers forgot about me."
Then he faced the machine and said with a shrug,
"Merry Christmas to all," as he pulled out its plug!

 

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through our house
was blasting the "St. Vitus Dance" by Bauhaus;
Torn fishnets were draped on my forearms with care,
And two cans of Aquanet applied to my hair;
My thoughts were of graveyards, and horror and dread,
Black visions of pain and despair in my head;
And Bianca, whose face was as pale as the moon,
Had thrown up her arm for this evening's swoon,
When out by the gravestones there came such a clatter,
I sprang from the coffin to find out the matter.


Away to the window I flew like a ghost,
Expecting to find a dark devilish host.
The moon on the breast of the uncaring snow
Threw ominous shadows on objects below,
When, before my tormented eyes did traverse,
But a gorgeous black Crane & Breed carved-panel hearse,
With a gaunt, shrouded driver, who filled me with fear,
And eight skeletal creatures that might have been deer.
More rapid than vultures his coursers they came,
And his deep Andrew Eldritch voice called them by name;


Now, Murphy! Now, Morgoth! Now, Torment and Woe!
On, Dreadful! On, Lovecraft! Mephisto and Poe!
To the top of the gravestones where fog wisps its breath!
With a weight on my soul I consign you to death!


As dead leaves that before hellish hurricanes fly,
When they flutter like giant bats' wings to the sky,
So up to the crypt-top the coursers they leapt,
While dearest Bianca, like death, still but slept.
And then, to my horror, I heard on the roof
The clicking and scratching of each bone-white hoof.
As I drew in my arm, and was whirling around,
Down the ebony chimney he came without sound.


He was clad all in black, and he looked oh-so-goth,
A billowy ensemble of crushed velvet cloth;
His boots were knee-high, quite buckled and zipped,
And the Spandex and fishnets 'round his legs were ripped.
His eyes glowed with bluish fire, deathly and cold,
A black eye-liner'd face neither youthful nor old.
A broad lipless mouth drawn with torment and hurt,
And his sorrowful face was as white as my shirt.


A smoldering cigarette tight in his grasp,
Its smoke curling eerily 'round his cloak clasp;
His gaunt frame was topped with long ebon hair,
And a sharp scent of brimstone and cloves choked the air.
His arms were outspread in the shape of a cross,
And I quailed when I saw him, feeling sorrow and loss;
He narrowed his eyes with a twist of his head,
And I felt the full weight of his angst and dread.


He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
Left some Dead Can Dance CD's; before I could ask,
A single tear fell across his aquiline nose,
And then, like an angel, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his hearse, to his team he then hissed,
And away they all drifted like early dawn's mist.
But I heard him intone, ere he vanished from sight,
"Gothic Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!"

 

SANTA'S RETIRED



Twas the night before Christmas and one thing was clear...
that old Yuletide spirit no longer was here.
Inflation was rising; the crime rate was tripling;
the fuel bills were up, and our mortgage was crippling.

I opened a beer as I watched TV,
where Donny sang "O Holy Night" to Marie.
The kids were in bed, getting sleep like they should
or else they were stoned, which was almost as good.

While Ma with her ball-point was making a fuss,
'bout folks we'd send cards to who'd sent none to us.
"Those ingrates," she thundered, and pounded her fist.
"Next year you can bet they'll be crossed off our list!"

When out in the yard came a deafening blare.
'Twas our burglar alarm, and I hollered, "Who's there?"
I turned on the searchlight, which lit up the night,
and armed with my handgun, beheld a strange sight.

Some red-suited clown with a white beard immense
was caught in our eight foot electrified fence.
He called out, "I'm Santa! I bring you no malice!"
Said I, "If you're Santa, I'm Telly Savalas!"

But, lo, as his presence grew clear to me,
I saw in the glare that it just might be he!
Called off our Doberman clawing his sleigh
and frisking him twice, said, "I think he's ok."

I led him inside where he slumped in a chair,
and he poured out the following tale of despair;
"On Christmas eves past I was jolly and chuckling,
but now 'neath the pressures, I fear I am buckling."

"You'll note I've arrived with no reindeer this year,
and without them, my sleigh is much harder to steer.
Although I would like to continue to use them,
the wildlife officials believe I abuse them."

"To add to my problem, Ralph Nader dropped by
and told me my sleigh was unsafe in the sky.
I now must wear seatbelts, despite my objections,
and bring in the sleigh twice a year for inspections."

"Last April, my workers came forth with demands,
and I soon had a general strike on my hands.
I couldn't afford to pay unionized elves,
so the misses and I did the work ourselves."

"And then, later on, came additional trouble...
an avalanche left my fine workshop in rubble.
My Allstate insurance was worthless, because
they had shrewdly slipped in a 'no avalanche' clause."

"And after that came an I.R.S audit;
the government claimed I was out to defraud it.
They finally nailed me for 65 grand,
which I paid through the sale of my house and my land."

"And yet I persist, though it gives me a scare,
flying blind through the blanket of smog in the air.
Not to mention the hunters who fill me with dread,
taking shots at my sleigh as I pass overhead."

"My torn-up red suit, and these bruises and swellings,
I got fighting muggers in multiple dwellings.
And if you should ask why I'm glowing tonight,
it's from flying too close to a nuclear site."

He rose from his chair and he heaved a great sigh,
and I couldn't help notice a tear in his eye.
"I've tried," he declared, "to reverse each defeat,
but I fear that today I've become obsolete."

He slumped out the door and returned to his sleigh,
and these last words he spoke as he went on his way;
"No longer can I do the job that's required;
if anyone asks, just say, 'Santa's retired!'"

 

CONVICT'S NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS



'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the cells,
The convicts were locked up
All madder than hell!

Except for the lifers
Kicked back in their bunks,
Heads filled with visions
Of fat little punks.

When suddenly from the roof top
There arose such a roar,
That the bulls thought it was
A riot for sure!

The goon squad ran in
And stood ready to hit.
A big guard yelled out,
"Who started this shit?"

"It came from the roof top,"
Sniveled a snitch.
"It must be a breakout.
Oh, son of a bitch!"

They climbed to the roof
By way of the stairs,
Found a fat little freak
In red underwear.

"No, No!" yelled the dude.
"I bring you good cheer!"
"Damn!" said the Captain.
"We found us a queer."

"Alright mother fusker,
Get your hands on the wall!"
They shook him down good,
bumhole and all.

They beat him and threw him
Into the hole with a kick.
Well so much for Christmas,
They locked up St. Nick!

 

CHRISTMAS ALERT



*** ATTENTION: ALL COUNTRY BROADCAST ***

** CODE RED ************ INTERPOL ALERT ************ CODE RED **

All units are to be on the lookout for the following individual(s) that are WANTED by an agencies within the United States of America. The US State Department has expressed interest in extraditing the following individual(s) from anywhere in the world.

NAME: Kringle, Christopher
Also Known As: Santa, Jolly Old Man, Saint Nick

Race: Unknown

Height: 6' 0"

Weight: 320 lbs

Scars/tattoos: Across both buttocks words Merry Christmas.

Last seen wearing Red suit pants and Jacket with red thermal underwear. Red hat with white tassel. Known to be driving a 1964 red convertible, with a nine Reindeer powered engine. Vehicle was displaying a red light on the front in violation of State of Alaska Vehicle Traffic Law.

Wanted for the following criminal violations:

Being jolly in a No Jolly zone, breaking and entering dwellings, leaving un-addressed packages in violation of US Postal Laws,

Intentional dumping of reindeer feces in sewer drains in violation of US EPA Laws, unlawful crossing of US Borders without reporting the crossing to US Customs, failure to obtain a non-resident work permit from INS, operating a motor vehicle that is not in compliance with US DOT Regulations, unlawful work practice in violation of the Equal Opportunity laws of the USA (will not employ people taller than (4) four feet in height), excess noise from motor vehicle in violation of State of Alaska Vehicle and Traffic Laws (Sounds of HO HO HO coming from within vehicle), failure to respond to repeated request for identification by FAA Flight controllers, and also in violation of the sovereign airspace of the United States of America.

Individual is known to force Goodwill and Peace among all men/women. Has been know to assault people with vicious bouts of laugh and fun. If contact is made with above individual, caution should be taken as to not become happy and gay, especially with thoughts of sugar plums. Detain individual and contact either Detective Grinch, North Pole Police Dept. Alaska, Or Special Agent Scrooge of the Federal Bureau Of Investigation.

 

ireland you are really into the Christmas spirit aren't you!

 

CHRISTMAS PARTY FESTIVITY LEVEL



Festivity Level 1: Your guests are chatting amiably with each other, admiring your Christmas tree ornaments, singing carols around the upright piano, sipping at their drinks and nibbling hors d'oeuvre.

Festivity Level 2: Your guests are talking loudly -- sometimes to each other, and sometimes to nobody at all, rearranging your Christmas tree ornaments, singing "I Gotta Be Me" around the upright piano, gulping their drinks and wolfing down hors d'oeuvre.

Festivity Level 3: Your guests are arguing violently with inanimate objects, singing "I Can't Get No Satisfaction," gulping down other peoples' drinks, wolfing down Christmas tree ornaments and placing hors d'oeuvre in the upright piano to see what happens when the little hammers strike them.

Festivity Level 4: Your guests, hors d'oeuvre smeared all over their naked bodies, are performing a ritual dance around the burning Christmas tree. The piano is missing.

You want to keep your party somewhere around level 3, unless you rent your home and own firearms, in which case you can go to level 4. The best way to get to level 3 is eggnog spiked with grain alcohol.

 

SANTA'S WOES



You think you got it bad? All night long I deal with soot in the chimneys, smelly socks, cross dogs, getting shot at, mistaken for a stork, driving all night in the snow - damn near got killed by a 747. Mrs. Clause is pi@@ed off cause I got in so late.

Donner and Blitzen and Rudolph got the sh@@s over Albuquerque and you should see my suit. The damn elves won't clean the sleigh unless I pay them double time.

I'm so sick of cookies and milk, I could vomit. The only highball I had all night was when I slipped getting out of my sleigh.

My prostate is giving me hell. I peed my pants at 20,000 feet and froze my a@@ to the seat. I'm allergic to pine needles. I itch all over and I think my hemorrhoids are back.

HO! HO! HO! A very MERRY CHRISTMAS, my a@@!

Santa