Post a Christmas Joke Ye Like Here,a ton of Christmas jokes to read

THE JOY OF COOKING CHRISTMAS DINNER



'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the kitchen;
I was cooking and baking and moanin and groanin.
I've been here for hours, I can't stop to rest.
This rooms a disaster, just look at this mess!

Tomorrow I've got thirty people to feed.
They expect all the trimmings. Who cares what I need!
My feet are both blistered, I've got cramps in my legs.
The cat just knocked over a bowl full of eggs.

There's a knock at the door and the telephone's ringing;
Frosting drips on the counter as the microwave's dinging.
Two pies in the oven, desserts almost done;
My cookbook is soiled with butter and crumbs.

I've had all I can stand, I can't take anymore;
Then in walks my husband, spilling rum on the floor.
He weaves and he wobbles, his balance unsteady;
Then grins as he chuckles, "The eggnog is ready!"

He looks all around and with total regret,
says "What's taking so long....aren't you through in here yet?"
As quick as a flash I reach for a knife;
He loses an earlobe; I wanted his life!

He flees from the room in terror and pain
and screams, "MY GOD WOMAN, YOU'RE GOING INSANE!"
Now what was I doing, and what is that smell?
Oh drat, it's the pies! They're burned all to hell!

I hate to admit when I make a mistake,
but I put them on BROIL instead of on BAKE.
What else can go wrong? Is there still more ahead?
If this is good living, I'd rather be dead.

Lord, don't get me wrong, I love holidays;
It just leaves me exhausted, all shaky and dazed.
But I promise you one thing, if I live till next year,
you won't find me pulling my hair out in here.

I'll hire a maid, a cook, and a waiter;
and if that doesn't work, I'll have it all catered!!!

 

BUBBA CLAUS



I regret to inform you that, effective immediately, I will no longer be able to serve Southern United States on Christmas Eve. Due to the overwhelming current population of the earth, my contract was renegotiated by North American Fairies and Elves Local 209. I now serve only certain areas of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin and Michigan.

As part of the new and better contract I also get longer breaks for milk and cookies so keep that in mind. However, I'm certain that your children will be in good hands with your local replacement who happens to be my third cousin, Bubba Claus. His side of the family is from the South Pole. He shares my goal of delivering toys to all the good boys and girls; however; there are a few differences between us. Differences such as:

1. There is no danger of a Grinch stealing your presents from Bubba Claus. He has a gun rack on his sleigh and a bumper sticker that reads: "These toys insured by Smith and Wesson."

2. Instead of milk and cookies, Bubba Claus prefers that children leave an RC cola and pork rinds (or a moon pie) on the fireplace. And Bubba doesn't smoke a pipe. He dips a little snuff though, so please have an empty spit can handy.

3. Bubba Claus' sleigh is pulled by floppy-eared, flyin' coon dogs instead of reindeer. I made the mistake of loaning him a couple of reindeer one time, and Blitzen's head now overlooks Bubba's fireplace.

4. You won't hear "On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen ..." when Bubba Claus arrives. Instead, you'll hear, "On Ernhardt, on Wallace, on Martin and Labonte. On Rudd, on Jarrett, on Elliott and Petty."

5. "Ho, ho, ho!" has been replaced by "Yee Haw!" And you also are likely to hear Bubba's elves respond, "I hear'd dat!"

6. As required by Southern highway laws, Bubba Claus' sleigh does have a Yosemite Sam safety triangle on the back with the words "Back Off." The last I heard it also had other decorations on the sleigh back as well. One is a Ford or Chevy logo with lights that race through the letters and the other is a caricature of me (Santa Claus) going wee wee on the Tooth Fairy.

7. The usual Christmas movie classics such as "Miracle on 34th Street" and "It's a Wonderful Life" will not be shown in your negotiated viewing area. Instead, you'll see "Boss Hogg Saves Christmas" and "Smokey and the Bandit IV" featuring Burt Reynolds as Bubba Claus and dozens of state patrol cars crashing into each other.

8. Bubba Claus doesn't wear a belt. If I were you, I'd make sure you, the wife, and the kids turn the other way when he bends over to put presents under the tree.

9. And finally, lovely Christmas songs have been sung about me like, "Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer" and Bing Crosby's "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town." This year songs about Bubba Claus will be played on all the AM radio stations in the South. Those song titles will be Mark Chesnutt's "Bubba Claus Shot the Jukebox" and "Grandma Got Run'd Over by a Reindeer."

 

FROSTY THE HIT MAN



Frosty the hit man
was a evil, psycho soul,
with an Uzi and some frag grenades,
and a heart as black as coal!

Frosty the hit man
was a fairy tale they say.
He was made of snow, but the children know
how he blew them all away.

There must have been some magic in those bullets that they found...
For when they put them in his gun he began to mow them down.

Oh Frosty the hit man was as real as he could be.
So he said, "You run, and I'll have some fun!
I'll give you 'till the count of three!"

He chased them down the streets of town right to a traffic cop.
And murdered him in cold blood when he heard him screaming, "STOP!"

Frosty the hit man
had to run and get away.
So he waved good-bye, shouting, "Run and hide!
I'll be back again, someday!"

 

SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED



'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
I searched for the tools to hand to my spouse.
Instructions were studied and we were inspired,
in hopes we could manage "Some Assembly Required."

The children were quiet (not asleep) in their beds,
while Dad and I faced the evening with dread:
a kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's town house to boot!
And, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!

We opened the boxes, my heart skipped a beat
- let no parts be missing or parts incomplete!
"Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;
if we can't get it right, it goes in the basement!"

When what to my worrying eyes should appear
but 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear.
With each part numbered and every slot named,
so if we failed, only we could be blamed.

More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out,
all over the carpet they were scattered about.
"Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there!
Slide on the seats, and staple the stair!"

"Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand."
"Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand."
And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact
that all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact

To keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night
with "assembly required" till morning's first light.
We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work,
till our eyes, they went bleary; our fingers all hurt.

The coffee went cold and the night, it wore thin
before we attached the last rod and last pin.
Then laying the tools away in the chest,
we fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.

But I said to my husband just before I passed out,
"This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.
Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring,
and not have to run to the store for a thing!

We did it! We did it! The toys are all set
for the perfect, most perfect, Christmas, I bet!"
Then off to dreamland and sweet repose
I gratefully went, though I suppose
there's something to say for those self-deluded...
I'd forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!

 

RUDOLPH'S MISSING



'Twas the night before Christmas,
And we were all in a hurry.
No one had seen Rudolph,
Santa started to worry.

We looked everywhere both high and low,
And we knew we needed Rudolph for the big show.
When he was found he looked sickly and pale,
He said that he partied too hard and spent 3 days in jail.

Santa told Rudolph the big night was here,
So go take a shower and put down the beer.
That's when Rudolph told Santa, "I don't think I can!"
And Santa said but you have to, "Cause I love you, man"

"And if you don't listen to what I'm telling you,
Tomorrow for lunch we'll have Reindeer stew!"
So Rudolph said, "Fine, let's pack up and go.
But before we do there's something you should know."

"This is the last year I'll pull your damn sled,
Because after this I'm retiring to bed."
The day after Christmas Santa threw a big feast,
We had cakes and pies and even roast beef.

But then with a sly grin Santa said we should try something new,
Mrs. Claus has cooked all day and made us some stew.
We ate and we drank 'til they turned the lights off,
But none seemed to know what ever happened to Rudolph.

We here at the North Pole we'll miss his red nose,
It's still a big mystery that only Santa knows!

 

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.

 

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.

 

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!"

 

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.

 

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!"

 

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.

 

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."

 

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........

 

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!"

 

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

 

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!

 

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

 

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!

 

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!

 

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!