Here is a mix of Santa and Christmas jokes, poems, stories, and songs, most of which are in good taste. Sources were listed when available. Most came from various lists and emails over the past 2 years. Enjoy.

Hey, we found a vendor of neat Christmas items that you might want to check out:

Personalized Christmas Stockings: MerryStockings.com offers over 50 unique Christmas stockings. Lots of variety from wool to velvet and everything in between.

CHRISTMAS-CUSTOMS

A look at Christmastime customs...and where they originated ...by UPI:

Busy with last-minute Christmas shopping, you may not realize that Christmas gifts are a comparatively recent custom in the United States.

In the early days of the nation, gifts were exchanged on New Year's Day - not Christmas.

December 25th was a special day of worship...a religious holiday and nothing else.

But around the mid-1800s, gift-giving at Christmas became popular. It's been growing ever since, until today...well, just look at the crowds in the stores across the country. Millions of people are loaded down with Christmas packages for other people. So Christmas giving certainly is here to stay.

Christmas cards didn't appear in the United States until the early 1900s. The first American card manufacturer was a German named Louis Prang of Roxbury, Massachusetts. And there's irony to this fact.

It seems Massachusetts is the only state in the nation which once outlawed Christmas. Actually, Massachusetts wasn't a state but rather a British colony at the time. It abolished Christmas observance for 22 years...from 1659 to 1681. Anyone who didn't show up for work on Christmas Day was fined five shillings. Massachusetts didn't make Christmas a legal holiday until 1885.

Then there's the mistletoe tradition. What's now a yuletide license for kissing used to be crushed and fermented into an intoxicating liquor by pagan tribes. The Norsemen regarded mistletoe as a sacred berry with great powers of healing.

The custom of hanging Christmas stockings originated in Holland, where the children used their shoes to collect gifts. The wooden shoes were parked by the fireplace to be filled by their patron saint...St. Nicholas.

Copyright 1999 by United Press International. All rights reserved.

Some Christmas Punny Stuff:

It was Chanukah and the Tiny Village was in fear of not having any latkes because they had run out of flour. Rudi, the Rabbi was called upon to help solve the problem. He said, "Don't worry. You can substitute matzo meal for the flour and the latkes will be just as delicious!"

Sheila looks to her husband and says, "Morty...you think it'll work?"

"Of course! As everybody knows...Rudolph, the Reb, knows grain, dear!""

-=+=-

I was travelling to Seattle on business. Knowing how the weather is up there (and lacking the proper clothing), I went to a local outdoor shop for a inclement weather clothing. Not finding what I was looking for, I went to another. Then another. Finally, a salesman suggested that I go to Rudolph's.

"Rudolph's?" I said, surprised. "Do you mean the Russian specialty store?"

To which the salesman answered, "Rudolph the Red knows rain gear."

(By Dave Christian)

-=+=-

This weekend while shopping in a local toy store, I came across a long line of people waiting for a promised shipment of dolls from Mattel. As I scanned the line, I noticed a friend waiting with all the others. I knew my friend had no daughters or young relatives, so I figured he must like the dolls himself.

"Bill," I said going up to him, "I didn't know you were a collector!"

"I'm not," he replied.

"Oh," I said, "You're buying a gift, then."

"No, not at all," my friend responded.

"If you don't mind my asking then Bill," I said, "Why are you standing in this line?"

"Oh that," he answered. "It's like this," my friend stated, . . . "I've never been able to resist a barbie queue!"

from The Good, Clean Funnies List

 

A Microsoft Christmas

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Bob Laurie, Juneau, Alaska**

'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 < <mailto: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 of you 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.

 

This is a really nice Christmas story sent to me by Ginger Shafer:

Bobby was getting cold sitting out in his back yard in the snow. Bobby didn't wear boots; he didn't like them and anyway he didn't own any. The thin sneakers he wore had a few holes in them and they did a poor job of keeping out the cold. Bobby had been in his backyard for about an hour already. And, try as he might, he could not come up with an idea for his mother's Christmas gift. He shook his head as he thought, "This is useless, even if I do come up with an idea, I don't have any money to spend."

Ever since his father had passed away three years ago, the family of five had struggled. It wasn't because his mother didn't care, or try, there just never seemed to be enough. She worked nights at the hospital, but the small wage that she was earning could only be stretched so far.

What the family lacked in money and material things, they more than made up for in love and family unity. Bobby had two older and one younger sister, who ran the house hold in their mother's absence. All three of his sisters had already made beautiful gifts for their mother. Somehow it just wasn't fair. Here it was Christmas Eve already, and he had nothing.

Wiping a tear from his eye, Bobby kicked the snow and started to walk down to the street where the shops and stores were. It wasn't easy being six without a father, especially when he needed a man to talk to. Bobby walked from shop to shop, looking into each decorated window. Everything seemed so beautiful and so out of reach.

It was starting to get dark and Bobby reluctantly turned to walk home when suddenly his eyes caught the glimmer of the setting sun's rays reflecting off of something along the curb. He reached down and discovered a shiny dime. Never before has anyone felt so wealthy as Bobby felt at that moment.

As he held his new found treasure, a warmth spread throughout his entire body and he walked into the first store he saw. His excitement quickly turned cold when the salesperson told him that he couldn't buy anything with only a dime. He saw a flower shop and went inside to wait in line. When the shop owner asked if he could help him, Bobby presented the dime and asked if he could buy one flower for his mother's Christmas gift.

The shop owner looked at Bobby and his ten cent offering. Then he put his hand on Bobby's shoulder and said to him, "You just wait here and I'll see what I can do for you." As Bobby waited he looked at the beautiful flowers and even though he was a boy, he could see why mothers and girls liked flowers. The sound of the door closing as the last customer left, jolted Bobby back to reality. All alone in the shop, Bobby began to feel alone and afraid.

Suddenly the shop owner came out and moved to the counter. There, before Bobby's eyes, lay twelve long stem, red roses, with leaves of green and tiny white flowers all tied together with a big silver bow. Bobby's heart sank as the owner picked them up and placed them gently into a long white box.

"That will be ten cents young man," the shop owner said reaching out his hand for the dime. Slowly, Bobby moved his hand to give the man his dime. Could this be true? No one else would give him a thing for his dime! Sensing the boy's reluctance, the shop owner added, "I just happened to have some roses on sale for ten cents a dozen. Would you like them?"

This time Bobby did not hesitate, and when the man placed the long box into his hands, he knew it was true. Walking out the door that the owner was holding for Bobby, he heard the shop keeper say, "Merry Christmas, son."

As he returned inside, the shop keeper's wife walked out. "Who were you talking to back there and where are the roses you were fixing?" Staring out the window, and blinking the tears from his own eyes, he replied, "A strange thing happened to me this morning. While I was setting up things to open the shop, I thought I heard a voice telling me to set aside a dozen of my best roses for a special gift. I wasn't sure at the time whether I had lost my mind or what, but I set them aside anyway. Then just a few minutes ago, a little boy came into the shop and wanted to buy a flower for his mother with one small dime.

"When I looked at him, I saw myself, many years ago. I too, was a poor boy with nothing to buy my mother a Christmas gift. A bearded man, whom I never knew, stopped me on the street and told me that he wanted to give me ten dollars. "When I saw that little boy tonight, I knew who that voice was, and I put together a dozen of my very best roses."

The shop owner and his wife hugged each other tightly, and as they stepped out into the bitter cold air, they somehow didn't feel cold at all.

Have a Joyous and Peace-filled season.

 

Rudolph was a four-hoofed ungulate

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Perry Olson, Anoka, Minnesota**

Rudolph was a four-hoofed ungulate, who, incidentally, possessed a nasal appendage of a maroon luster. Consequently, if circumstances were to present themselves that he ever came into your view, you would most undoubtedly remark at to its illuminary qualities.

The multitude of other members of the population in his ecological community had previously teased, chuckled boisterously, and dubbed him unspeakable pseudonyms -- the objective of which was to lower his self-esteem and make him miserable. They also excluded him from participation in leisure activities consistent with their species.

However, on the twenty-fourth of December in an unspecified year a mythological, supernatural being inherent to western culture (who symbolizes the Christmas attitude and allegedly brings gifts to children) arrived through the supersaturated, humid air.

He formally invited Rudolph, due to his extraordinary nasal characteristic. To stand at the forefront of his snow vehicle with the express purpose that he navigate through the nocturnal mist.

At that point, the multitude of other members of the population in his ecological community who had previously teased, chuckled boisterously, and dubbed him unspeakable pseudonyms, reversed their disposition toward Rudolph to a more congenial, amicable relationship. They consequently exclaimed with great exaltation and fervor, Rudolph, the antlered mammal with a maroon nasal appendage, you shall most certainly be recorded in the annals of time, and your memory will be preserved for posterity!

Now wasn't that fun? Oh...ok...we'll do it your way... Rudolph the red nosed Reindeer...

 

Twas The Night Before Christmas....Mom Style

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Deanna Sinclair, the Mom of Twins!**

 

Twas the night before Christmas, when all thru the abode

Only one creature was stirring, she was cleaning the commode.

The children were finally sleeping, all snug in their beds,

while visions of Nintendo 64 & Barbie flipped through their heads.

 

The dad was snoring in front of the TV,

with a half-constructed bicycle propped on his knee.

So only the mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,

which made her sigh, "Now what is the matter?"

 

With toilet bowl brush still clutched in her hand,

She descended the stairs, & saw the old man.

He was covered with ashes & 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 that I want is time alone."

"Exactly!" he chuckled, "So, I've made you a clone."

 

"A clone?" she muttered, "What good is that?"

"Run along, Santa, I've no time for chit chat."

Then out walked the clone - The mother's twin,

Same hair, same eyes, same double chin.

 

"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 has come true!"

"I'll shop, I'll read, I'll sleep a night through!"

 

From the room above, the youngest did fret.

"Mommy?! Come quickly, I'm scared & I'm wet."

The clone replied, "I'm coming, sweetheart."

"Hey," the mom smiled, "She sure knows her part."

 

The clone changed the small one & hummed him a tune,

as she bundled the child in a blanket cocoon.

"You're the best mommy ever. I really love you."

The clone smiled & sighed, "And I love you, too."

 

The mom frowned & said, "Sorry, Santa, no deal."

That's my child's LOVE she is trying to steal."

Smiling wisely Santa said, "To me it is clear,

Only one loving mother is needed here."

 

The mom kissed her child & tucked her in 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, dear Mom, You will be all right."

 

A Southern Christmas

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by K. Murphy, Harrisonburg, VA

In a small southern town there was a "Nativity Scene" that showed great skill and talent had gone into creating it. One small feature bothered me. The three wise men were wearing firemen's helmets.

Totally unable to come up with a reason or explanation, I left. At a "Quik Stop" on the edge of town, I asked the lady behind the counter about the helmets. She exploded into a rage, yelling at me, "You darn Yankees never do read the Bible!"

I assured her that I did, but simply couldn't recall anything about firemen in the Bible.

She jerked her Bible from behind the counter and ruffled thru some pages, and finally jabbed her finger at a passage. Sticking it in my face she said,

"See, it says right here, 'The three wise man came from afar.'"

 

CAROLS FOR THE PSYCHIATRICALLY CHALLENGED

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Jessica Gonzalez, Kettering, OH**

SCHIZOPHRENIA:

Do you Hear What I Hear?

 

MULTIPLE PERSONALITY DISORDER:

We Three Queens Disoriented Are.

 

DEMENTIA:

I Think I'll Be Home for Christmas.

 

NARCISSISTIC:

Hark the Herald Angels Sing About Me.

 

MANIC:

Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Busses and Trucks and Trees and Fire Hydrants and...

 

PARANOID:

Santa Claus is Coming to Get Me.

 

PERSONALITY DISORDER:

You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll tell you Why.

 

DEPRESSION:

Silent Anedonia, Holy Anhedonia, All is Flat, All is Lonely.

 

OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE DISORDER:

Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle

Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle

Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle

Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell

Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell,

Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, .......(better

start again)

 

PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE PERSONALITY:

On the First Day of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me (and then took it all away).

 

BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER:

Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire.

 

 

SANTA'S NEW CONTRACT

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Charlie Bone, Knoxville, TN**

Christmas News

A new contract for Santa has finally been negotiated. Please read the following carefully. 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, Iowa, Wisconsin, Minnesota, 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 my 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 Earnhardt, 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 her'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 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 title will be Mark Chesnutt's "Bubba Claus Shot the Jukebox" and "Grandma Got Run'd Over by a Reindeer.

Sincerely Yours,

Santa Claus
member of North American Fairies and Elves Local 209

 

AN ARKANSAS CHRISTMAS

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the shack,

not a thing was a movin', from the front to the back,

The kids were in bed, I believe we had nine,

The wife in her curlers, was lookin' real fine.

A cold wind was blowin', up the holler it moaned,

All seven dogs on the porch howled and groaned.

The boys were all dreamin' of weapons and guns,

for killin' God's creatures, there's no better fun.

The girls in their feminine dreams were attuned,

to getting those gallons of Wal-Mart perfume.

The wife wanted jewelry, like rings with big rocks,

I wanted my Chevy, down off the blocks.

Then in the yard, such a noise did commence,

like something was caught, in the barb-wire fence.

I ran to the window, and saw pretty quick,

the man makin' the racket, was Good Ol' St. Nick.

You may think of Santa, in your own mind's eye,

dressed in a red and white suit, But I've got a surprise.

That old boy's an Arkie, our fair state he won't fail'er,

He married his cousin, and they live in a trailer.

On Christmas, of course, a sleigh for his rig,

He hooks the thing up, to a razorback pig.

He climbed on the roof, with his bag full of goodies,

He backed down the fireplace, all dirty and sooty.

Fat legs in his britches, chubby hands in his mittens,

I admit from the back, he looked like Bill Clinton.

He turned toward the tree, His eyes all aglow,

He was an Arkansas boy, from his head to his toe.

His neck was a red one, His shirt said "Light Beer",

there was no red hat, his cap read,"John Deere".

He left all the presents, with an air of delight,

Then it was back to the chimney, and into the night.

He ran into the yard, and threw his bag in the sleigh,

Then he yelled at the dogs, to get out of the way.

And I heard him exclaim, as those pigs took to flight,

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.....or maybe it was a "Bud Lite"


Happily Addicted to the Web

(to the tune of "Winter Wonderland")

Doorbell rings, I'm not list'nin',

From my mouth, drool is glist'nin',

I'm happy--although

My boss let me go--

Happily addicted to the Web.

 

All night long, I sit clicking,

Unaware time is ticking,

There's beard on my cheek,

Same clothes for a week,

Happily addicted to the Web.

 

Friends come by; they shake me,

Saying, "Yo, man!

Don't you know tonight's the senior prom?"

With a listless shrug, I mutter, "No, man;

I just discovered letterman-dot-com!"

 

I don't phone, don't send faxes,

Don't go out, don't pay taxes,

Who cares if someday

They drag me away?

I'm happily addicted to the Web!

 

Santa and the Angel

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Debbie Hoellen, Denver, Colorado, via Karen Isaak, Denver, Colorado**

One particular Christmas season a long time ago, Santa was getting ready for his annual trip ... but there were problems everywhere. Four of his elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones so Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.

Then, Mrs. Claus told Santa that her mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more. When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. More stress.

Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys. So, frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered that the elves had hid the liquor and there was nothing to drink. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the coffee pot and broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw it was made from.

Just then the doorbell rang and Santa cussed on his way to the door. He opened the door and there was a little angel with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said, very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas Santa. Isn't it just a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Isn't it just a lovely tree? Where would you like me to stick it?"

Thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

 

 

Santa is a she

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. It's as if they are all frozen in some kind of Ebenezerian Time Warp until 3 p.m. on Dec. 24th, when they - with amazing calm - call other errant men and plan for a last-minute shopping spree.

Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. (You might think this would send them into a fit of panic and guilt, but my husband tells me it's an enormous relief because it lessens the 11th hour decision-making burden.) 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 o 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. Add to this the fact that there would be unavoidable delays in the chimney, where the Bob Vila-like Santa would stop to inspect and repoint bricks in the flue. He would also need to check for carbon monoxide fumes in every gas fireplace, and get under every Christmas tree that is crooked to straighten it to a perfectly upright 90-degree angle.

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 "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. As long as we have each other, good will, peace on earth, faith and Nat King Cole's version of "The Christmas Song," it probably makes little difference what gender Santa is. I just wish she'd quit dressing like a guy!!!

 

 

 

CHET -- THE CHRISTMAS PARROT

One day a husband decided to go to a pet store and get his wife a bird for Christmas. He knew she loved animals, birds in particular, and decided this would be the perfect gift for her.

He goes to the pet store and asks the manager if he has anything special in the way of birds. The manager tells him that in fact he does, it's a bird named Chet who sings.

The guy is very interested and asks to see Chet. The manager brings him over to a beautiful bird and tells the husband that this is Chet. The husband asks what is so special about him and the manager tells him that Chet can sing, and that he'll show him.

The manager then takes a cigarette lighter out of his pocket and lights it a few inches underneath Chet's right foot. Chet begins to sing, "Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle All the Way..."

The husband says that it was great and asks, "Does Chet sing anything else?" So the manager then lights his lighter under Chet's left foot, and Chet begins to sing, "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know..." The husband is very impressed, sure that his wife will absolutely love this bird, so he buys Chet.

He brings the bird home and presents it to his wife as a Christmas gift. She is very happy and says the bird is beautiful. The husband tells her that the bird can sing, and he takes his lighter and lights it beneath Chet's right foot, and Chet begins to sing, "Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle All the Way..."

The wife is thrilled and asks if he can do anything else. The husband then lights the lighter under Chet's left foot and Chet begins to sing, "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know..."

The wife is overwhelmed and asks, "What would happen if you put the lighter under both of his feet at the same time?" The husband says that he doesn't know, but they could try it. So the husband puts the lighter under both of the birds feet and the bird begins to sing,

"Chet's nuts roasting on an open fire...."

 

 

 

Spanglish Christmas Carol

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Jessica Gonzalez, Dayton, Ohio**

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the casa,

Not a creature was stirring -- Caramba! Que pasa?

Los ninos were tucked away in their camas,

Some in long underwear, some in pijamas,

 

While hanging the stockings with mucho cuidado

In hopes that old Santa would feel obligado

To bring all the children, both buenos and malos,

A nice batch of dulces and other regalos.

 

Saint Nick in a sleigh and a big red sombrero

Came dashing along like a crazy bombero.

And pulling his sleigh instead of venados,

Were eight little burros approaching volados.

 

I watched as they came and this quaint little hombre

Was shouting and whistling and calling by nombre:

"Ay Pancho, ay Pepe, ay Cuco, ay Beto,

ay Chato, ay Pocho, Macuco y Nieto!"

 

Then standing erect with his hands on his pecho

He flew to the top of our very own techo.

With his round little belly like a bowl of jalea,

He struggled to squeeze down our own chimenea.

 

Then huffing and puffing at last in our sala,

With soot smeared all over his red suit gala,

He filled all the stockings with lovely regalos --

For none of the ninos had been very malos.

 

Then chuckling aloud, seeming very contento,

He turned like a flash and was gone like the viento.

And I heard him exclaim, and this is la verdad,

Merry Christmas to all, and Feliz Navidad!

 

 

 

Felicitious Seasonal Acknowledgements for an Exemplary Celebration

-----------------------------

'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout the place of residence, kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus musculus (mouse).

Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.

The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebrums. My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.

Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself - thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a minuscule, aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller. With his ungulate motive power traveling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen - "Now Dasher, now Dancer..." et al. - guiding them to the uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.

As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved - with utmost celerity and via a downward leap - entry by way of the smoke passage.

He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle.

His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability.

The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of Albion's floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.

Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container. He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.

Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about-face, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage. He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: "Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn."

from Dr. Ed Metcalf

 

The Month After Christmas

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Caroline Genners, Jacksonville, FL**

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 a 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 cornbread, 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!

 

Trekkie Christmas

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Tom Berglind, Fargo, North Dakota, with the following note: "Pretty good if you're a Star Trek fan"

'Twas the night before Christmas on the Enterprise-D,

On a routine short hop to Starbase 03,

With Data on duty in the command chair,

At Warp 6, the Enterprise soon would be there.

 

Just for something to do while the other crew slept,

He scanned where historical records were kept --

And with a blink of his eye and a cock of his head,

"Intriguing! Tomorrow is Christmas!" he said.

But no one was stirring, and he sought to find why,

And so he buzzed Geordi, who awoke with a sigh:

"Christmas? It's only an old holiday --

Now just let me get back to sleep, okay?"

 

"But is to wish Merry Christmas not human to do?"

And so Data wished it -- to the whole ship and crew.

Everyone on the Enterprise awoke from this clatter --

Picard rushed to the bridge to see what was the matter.

"What is the meaning of this noise, Mister Data?"

"Sir, is it not Christmas--?" "We'll discuss it much later!"

 

Just then Worf said, "Captain -- a Klingon Bird Of Prey!

Its hull, cloak and warp drive's been damaged -- it can't run away!"

"On screen," said Picard, as the Klingon ship hailed:

"Federation vessel, our Life Support systems have failed!

A strange ship attacked us, inflicting the worst,

(though naturally, of course, we'd fired on it first)."

 

The Klingons beamed over, and the senior staff met,

To try and determine the source of the threat.

Said Picard, "Mister Data, an assignment for you:

Give all of these Klingons something to do!

They think it's the Romulans we should look for,

Get them all off the bridge, before there's a war!"

So Data departed, while the rest of the crew Wondered: Romulans?

Ferengi? If not them, then who?

 

Said Worf, "Sir -- disturbance on Holodeck Three!"

The entire bridge crew ran down there to see.

Roared Picard, "Mister Data, what the devil is this!!"

"Sir, I have taught the Klingons how to celebrate Christmas."

And so there they were -- on holodecks 3, 4 and 5

With synthohol, singing and Rokeg Blood Pie!

Soon the Big E was rocking with holiday cheer

Friend,foe, and family came from both far and near.

 

The Romulans showed up with some Romulan Ale,

The Ferengi brought goodies for free -- not for sale!

But a strange ship was coming, the captain was told,

With one crew member only, and a huge cargo hold.

Said the Klingons, "It's the strange ship that fought us -- attack!"

Said Picard, "On Christmas? -- Mister Worf, just hold back."

And then as the ship came into view,

Onscreen came its captain -- none other than Q!

 

He wore a white beard and a suit of deep red...

"Joyeux Noel, mon capitain," was what Santa Q said.

"Tell those Klingons next time to not go so berserk.

You need good defense systems in this line of work.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be warping away...

Did you think anyone else could do this job in one day?"

"I'm sensing emotion," said Counselor Troi,

"Peace in the galaxy, Good Will and Joy."

And they stood on the bridge and watched Q take flight, shouting,

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!"

 

Barbie's Early Christmas Letter

Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Jay Carriere, Winchester, VA

To: Chief Executive Officer
Mattel, Inc.
El Segundo, CA

Dear Sir,

Listen you fat little troll, I've been helping you out every year, playing at being the perfect Christmas present, wearing skimpy bathing suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many tea parties, and I hate to break it to ya, but IT'S DEFINITELY PAYBACK TIME! There had better be some changes around here this year, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me, you won't wanna be around to smell it).

So, here's my resolution/wish list:

1. A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a hooker. How much smaller are these bathing suits gonna get? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and velcro crawling up your butt?

2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. Preferably white. What bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to my skin?!? It looks like cellulite!

3. A REAL man...maybe GI Joe. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me Elmo over that wimped-out excuse for a boyfriend, Ken. And what's with that earring anyway? If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me) anatomically correct.

4. Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct.

5. Breast reduction surgery. I don't care whose arm you have to twist, just get it done.

6. A sports bra. To wear until I get the surgery.

7. A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How about a systems analyst? Or better yet, an advertising account exec!

8. A new, more 90s persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with a miniature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun, outfitted with a fake fur coat and handcuffs; or "Stop Smoking Barbie", sporting a removable Nicotrol patch and equipped with several packs of gum.

9. No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl.

10. Mattel stock options. It's been 37 years--I think I deserve it.

Ok, Mr CEO, that's it. Considering my valuable contribution to society, I don't think these requests are out of line. If you disagree, then you can find yourself a new bimbo doll for next Christmas. It's that simple.

Yours truly,

Barbie

Dreamhouse, Malibu, CA

 

Found on the Net, Author unknown....

 

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 a 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!

 

Announcement:

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 was necessary

due to the North Pole's loss of dominance of the season's gift

distribution business.

 

Home shopping channels and mail order catalogues have diminished

Santa's market share. He could not sit idly by and permit further

erosion of the profit picture.

 

The reindeer downsizing was made possible through the 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 reindeer will also

lessen airborne environmental emissions for which the North Pole has

received unfavorable press.

 

I am 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 got that way, 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 year when he is

known to be under executive stress.

 

As a 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" subsidiary:

 

- The partridge will be retained, but the pear tree never turned out

to be the cash crop forecasted. It will be replaced by a plastic

hanging plant, providing considerable savings in maintenance;

 

- The 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;

 

- The three French hens will remain intact. After all, everyone loves

the French;

 

- The four calling birds were 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;

 

- 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 appears to be in order;

 

- 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 is an example of the 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;

 

- 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 and therefore enhance their outplacement;

 

- 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;

 

- 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;

 

- 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 because we expect an oversupply of unemployed

congressmen this year;

 

- 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 down to the bottom line;

 

We can expect a substantial reduction in assorted people, fowl,

animals and other 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 attorneys' association seeking

expansion to include the legal profession ("thirteen

lawyers-a-suing"), the action is pending.

 

Lastly, it is not beyond consideration that deeper cuts may be

necessary in the future to stay competitive. Should that happen,

the Board will request management to scrutinize the Snow White

Division to see if seven dwarfs is the right number.

from Mike Robinson, Triad Consulting

 

 

A Bilingual Christmas

'Twas the night before Xmas and all through the casa,

not a creature was stirring, Caramba! Que pasa?

Los ninos were all tucked away in their camas,

some in vestidos and some in pijamas.

While mama worked late in her little cocina,

el viejo was down at the corner cantina.

The stockings were hanging with mucho cuidado,

in hopes that Saint Nicholas would feel obligado.

To bring all the children with buenos and malos,

a nice batch of dulces and other regalos.

Outside in the yard there arose such a grito,

That I jumped to my feet like a frightened cabrito.

I ran to the window and looked afuera,

and who in the world do you think that it era?

St. Nick in a sleigh and a big red sombrero.

Came dashing along like a crazy bombero!

And pulling his sleigh instead of venados,

were eight little burros approaching volados.

I watched as they came, and this quaint little hombre,

was shouting and whistling and calling by nombre:

"Ay, Pancho! Ay Pepe! Ay Cuca! Ay Beto!

Ay Chato! Ay Chopo! Ay Maruca!, y Nieto!"

Then standing erect with his hand on his pecho,

he flew to the top of our own very techo!

With his round little belly like a bowl of jalea,

he struggled to squeeze down our old chiminea.

Then huffing and puffing, at last in our sala,

with soot smeared all over his red suit de gala.

He filled all the stockings with lovely regalos,

for none of the ninos had been very malos.

Then chuckling aloud, seeming very contento,

he turned like a flash and was gone like el viento.

And I heard him explain and this is verdad,

"Merry Christmas to All! Feliz Navidad!"

Author Unknown

Ho Ho Ho on de Bayou

Wuz de night befo' Chrisma, wit de moon big lak jumbo,

Us Cajun was stirrin' a big pot o' gumbo.

Sock we sho got, but we don' got no shoes.

De cillern all cover good down on de flo'

Wit moss onderneat, so dey don' get so soe.

Mama at de chimney is roastin' de ham

An boilin' de couboulliion, and bakin' de yam.

Wen out on de bayou, dey go such a clatter

Man, it soun' lak Gros Boudreaux don fall off a ladder.

Ah run lak a rabbit to get to de do',

Trip on de dog and fall on de flo'.

As ah look out de do' in de light of de moon,

Ah tink, Man, you crazy, or you goin' be soon!

Cuz dere on de bayou, wen ah stretch mah neck stiff

Ah see eight alligator, and dey pullin' a skiff.

Dem gator wuz swift, down de bayou dey came,

As' de driver he holla and call dem by name:

"Haw, Comeaux!, Haw Boudreaux!, Fontenont and Alcide!

Gee Phydeaux!, Gee Thibodeaux!, Alphonse and Pladide!

To the top of de poch, to de top of de wall,

Crawl up dere, Alligator, and be so' you don' fall!"

Lak dat up de poch de alligator dey climb

With a skiff full of playtings and Sait Nicklas behin'.

Den on top ob de chimney ah hear a big "BAM!"

When Sait Nicklas he fall "sit-first" on de yam.

"Sacre Bleu," he say, "Ah bet my pants got a hole

Where ah set dem down on dem big red-hot coal!"

He wuz dress all in muskrat, from him head to him foot

An' his clos' is all cover wit ashes and soot.

A sack full of playtings he t'row on his back,

He look lak a criminal, an' dat's fo' a fack!

His eye how dey chine, his dimple how merry!

His cheeck lak rad roses, his nose lak a cherry.

He have white hair on his chin, and a big fat belly

Dat shake wen he laff, lak de strawberry jelly.

A wink ob his eye an' a shake ob his han',

Ah gayrontee, ah lak dis fat man!

He don' do no talkin', an got rat to work,

Put playtings in socks and den turn wit a jerk.

He put bot' his han' on top ob his head,

He look at de chimney, and den he done said:

"Wif all dat dere fire, and dem red hot yam

Ah don' go back up dat way again!"

So he run out de do' and clime on de roof,

He jump in his skiff, and he crack his big whip.

Man, dem alligator, dey MOVE, and dey do not slip!

An ah hear him holla as down de bayou he go,

"Merry Chrisma! Merry Chrisma!" till ah see him no mo'.

 

 

The Twelve Thank-you Notes of Christmas

 

Dec 25

My dearest darling Edward,

What a wonderful surprise has just greeted me! That sweet partridge, in that lovely little pear-tree; what an enchanting, romantic, poetic present! Bless you, and thank you.

Your deeply loving

Emily.

 

 

Dec. 26

Beloved Edward,

The two turtle-doves arrived this morning, and are cooing away in the pear-tree as I write. I'm so touched and grateful!

With undying love, as always,

Emily.

 

 

Dec. 27

My darling Edward,

You do think of the most original presents! Who ever thought of sending anybody three French hens? Do they really come all the way from France? It's a pity we have no chicken coops, but I expect we'll find some. Anyway, thank you so much; they're lovely.

Your devoted Emily.

 

 

Dec. 28

Dearest Edward,

What a surprise! Four calling birds arrived this morning. They are very sweet, even if they do call rather loudly - they make telephoning almost impossible - but I expect they'll calm down when they get used to their new home. Anyway, I'm very grateful, of course I am.

Love from Emily.

 

 

Dec. 29

Dearest Edward,

The mailman has just delivered five most beautiful gold rings, one for each finger, and all fitting perfectly! A really lovely present! Lovelier, in a way, than birds, which do take rather a lot of looking after. The four that arrived yesterday are still making a terrible row, and I'm afraid none of us got much sleep last night. Mother says she wants to use the rings to "wring" their necks. Mother has such a sense of humor. This time she's only joking, I think, but I do know what she means. Still, I love the rings.

Bless you,

Emily.

 

 

Dec. 30

Dear Edward,

Whatever I expected to find when I opened the front door this morning, it certainly wasn't six socking great geese laying eggs all over the porch. Frankly, I rather hoped that you had stopped sending me birds. We have no room for them, and they've already ruined the croquet lawn. I know you meant well, but let's call a halt, shall we?

Love,

Emily.

 

 

Dec. 31

Edward,

I am quite sure I said NO MORE BIRDS. This morning I woke up to find no fewer than seven swans, all trying to get into our tiny goldfish pond. I'd rather not think what's happened to the goldfish. The whole house seems to be full of birds, to say nothing of what they leave behind them, so please, please, stop!

Your Emily.

 

 

Jan 1

Frankly, I prefer the birds. What am I to do with eight milkmaids? And their cows! Is this some kind of a joke? If so, I'm afraid I don't find it very amusing.

Emily.

 

 

Jan. 2

See here, Edward,

This has gone far enough. You say you're sending me nine ladies dancing. All I can say is, judging from the way they dance, they're certainly not ladies. The village just isn't accustomed to seeing a regiment of shameless hussies cavorting round the green, and it's Mother and I who get the blame. If you value our friendship, which I do (though less and less), kindly stop this ridiculous behavior at once!

Emily.

 

 

Jan 3

As I write this letter, ten disgusting old men are prancing up and down all over what used to be the garden, before the geese and the swans and the cows got at it. And several of them, I have just noticed, are taking inexcusable liberties with the milkmaids. Meanwhile the neighbors are trying to have us evicted. I shall never speak to you again.

Emily.

 

 

Jan 4

This is the last straw! You know I detest bagpipes! The place has now become something between a menagerie and a madhouse, and a man from the council has just declared it unfit for habitation. At least Mother has been spared this last outrage; they took her away yesterday afternoon in an ambulance to a home for the bewildered. I hope you're satisfied.

 

 

Jan. 5

Sir,

Our client, Miss Emily Wilbraham, instructs me to inform you that with the arrival on her premises at 7:30 this morning of the entire percussion section of the London Symphony Orchestra, and several of their friends, she has no course left open to her but to seek an injunction to prevent you importuning her further. I am making arrangements for the return of much assorted livestock.

I am, Sir, yours faithfully,

G. Creep

Attorney at law.

from Nigel Peacock

 

Since we all experience the Solstice

no matter where we sit on this

skin of our "Grandmother"

who nurtures every need.

 

Since we all experience the Solstice

whether darkest or light

we remember all of the animals

we remember all of the plants

we remember the stones

we remember the water

we remember the fire

we remember the air

we remember to have the

courage to be responsible

to all of the web of life.

 

Since we all experience the Solstice

whether darkest or light

we share our most unique moments

we share our food

we share our work

we share our thoughts

we share our feelings

we share our knowing

we share the electricity

of our breath.

 

Since we all experience the solstice

whether darkest or light

we know that each learns

we know that each thinks

we know that each expresses

we know that each loves

we know that each cleans

we know that each gives

we know that each is healed

 

Since we all experience the solstice

whether darkest or light

we remember the =93bringer of light=94

we remember the little spider

we remember how she caught

the light in her web.

we remember how the web

surrounded the fire

but gave the safety of distance

we remember how it was the smallest

the least "significant"

that brought the warmth and light

we remember how the light was nurtured

by thought and respect

we remember how the light becomes

the sun close enough to feed

yet distant enough not to destroy.

 

In this web the heat of our thoughts

can begin something that will create

a new world renewed by this

inter - net.

 

The old world destroyed by triviality

and the insatiability of material desire

can feed our renewal if we respect it

and then place it

as the dead fish

feeds the corn

 

In one solstice the world is full, warm, summer

In one solstice the world is empty, cold, winter

Remember the fullness at this

time of emptiness

and feel courage

Remember the emptiness in this

time of fullness

and feel humility

 

That we may both know

and finish our roads

together.

 

Ray Evans Harrell 12/20/1996 at mcore@soho.ios.com

 

Words and Looks: Leadership Lessons from "A Christmas Carol"

or

Marley Dead: Scrooge Visited By Consultants!

Management gurus have drawn lessons on leadership from diverse sources, ranging from the practices of Attila the Hun to the fictional events in Star Trek. Yet they seem to have missed one of the finest accounts of transformation and change familiar to us all. It is Charles Dickens' best-loved story, A Christmas Carol. He said that he himself laughed and cried over it more than anything else he wrote, and it can still have that effect on us today. For there is a little bit (perhaps more than a little) of Ebenezer Scrooge in each of us and Dickens' penetrating observation of the condition of our "shut-up hearts" is as relevant now as it was 153 years ago. As everyone knows, it is the story of personal renewal, of the conversion of a grasping, joyless taskmaster into a public benefactor and caring friend. Dickens also outlines a process of change which many modern organizations might try to follow. Indeed, as a story of personal and organizational transformation, it reports results that would delight any change consultant. Of course Scrooge had three consultants.

Scrooge's transformation begins in crisis, with the disturbing appearance of his former partner's ghost seven years after his death. It seems that real change often demands a crisis - a manifest failure of the status quo - to smash the constraints, imagined or real, that bind people and their organizations. Shocked out of his comfortable routines and intellectual self-assurance, Scrooge is prepared for the visions to be shown him of the Past, Present and Future. For change in behaviour takes experience, not just exposure to ideas, and Scrooge has to be immersed in each of these dimensions of time if he is to be changed. He must relive the past, truly experience the present and anticipate the future.

In his visit to the Past Scrooge sees himself as the lonely young boy he once was: neglected by his family and bullied at school, but full of imaginative ideas and youthful enthusiasms. He sees his beloved sister Fan and old values and aspirations are reawakened. Following the chronology of events he revisits the firm where he was apprenticed under his first master, Mr. Fezziwig. Here he experiences once again the excitement and warmth of that small community at the office Christmas party. When the Spirit disparages Fezziwig's contribution and the small expenditure involved, Scrooge defends his former boss with powerful insight into the role he plays: "He has the power to render us happy or unhappy, to make our service light or burdensome, a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks, in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to count 'em up; what then? The happiness he gives us is quite as great as if it cost a fortune." And the sudden recollection of this old role model makes Scrooge strangely thoughtful.

The sustaining power and warmth of community wherever it is to be found is the central theme of Scrooge's experience of the Present. He sees the family of his poor clerk, Bob Cratchit, busily preparing for Christmas dinner. Bob Cratchit has few material possessions, but he has a rich life with his family, all of whom care deeply for each other. Dressed in their threadbare best, each member of the family has their own special role to play in the great ceremony. Scrooge is right there with them, participating in every activity. All his senses are alive again: the smell of goose and applesauce, sage and onion, and the steamy aroma of the pudding. After dinner, as the family sits in a circle round the hearth drinking each others' health, he hears Tiny Tim, physically crippled but spiritually whole, give his brave blessing. The joy of community continues at his nephew's house, his nephew who is now the only connection left with his dead sister. Indeed, the story is now about the development and sustenance of relationships. The small group entertains itself with music, song and games in which Scrooge takes part. Once again he feels at first hand what it is like to belong among a community of friends.

The Spirit of Christmas Future comes to Scrooge hooded and silent, part of the darkness, reflecting its mysterious, unfathomable nature. The future which Scrooge sees is a jumble of events, a series of scenes (we would call them scenarios today) in no particular order, and yet he has more control here than he had in either the Past or the Present. He is able to move about, to explore and to ask the Spirit to wait a while. It gradually becomes clear to him that the Future he is seeing is not something that inevitably Will be: it is something that May be. The Future can be changed. And with the realization of what he needs to do to change and through an effort of sheer Will, Scrooge succeeds for the briefest of moments in grasping the spectral hand of the Future. "I will live in the Past, the Present and the Future", he cries "The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that teach."

At the end of A Christmas Carol then, we begin to understand our own condition. To have a shut-up heart is to be stuck in Time, to be chained on the treadmill of the Present, without an appreciation of Past and Future. It is to be locked up with our own concerns, senseless and separated from the community of others. It is to be obsessed with superficialities and abstractions, for our spirits, like Marley's, never to rove beyond the narrow limits of our "money-changing holes". We also gain insight into the nature of leadership and even of how change consultants might help the process. Leadership is about the recreation of community, about reconnecting the narratives of people's lives: giving meaning to the past, explaining the present and supplying guidance for the future. The best leaders are continually aware of their place in time: they are always dealing with endings and beginnings. Too often, as managers, we just seem to muddle along in the middle.

There are crises a-plenty in our organizations today: but the message of "A Christmas Carol" is that in crisis there is opportunity. It is a sobering thought, but in that realization there is redemption. As Dickens put it, "Best and happiest of all, the Time before him was his own, to make amends in!" And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One!

 

David Hurst (dhurst1046@aol.com)

Speaker, Consultant and Writer on Management

Author of "Crisis & Renewal: Meeting the Challenge of Organizational Change"

(Harvard Business School Press 1995) <A HREF="http://www.mcgrawhill.ca//trade

/books/0875845827.html">McGraw-Hill Ryerson - Crisis & Renewal</A>

 

 

De Ebonics Crimmus Pome

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Chad Rohlfsen, Iowa** Note - I know this is not PC but I do think it is humorous...

Wuz de nite befo Crimmus;

An' all ower de hood;

ereybody wuz' sleepin';

Dey wuz sleepin' good.

We hunged up our stockings;

An hoped like de' heck;

That ol Sanna Clause;

Be bringin' our check.

All o'de fambily;

Wuz layin in de beds;

While Ripple and Thunderbird;

Dance tru' dey heads.

I passed out inna' flo;

Right nex to my Maw;

When I heard sech a fuss;

I thunk: "It mus be de law!!!"

I looked out thru de bars;

What covered my doe;

'spectin' de sheriff;

Wif a warrent fo sho.

And what did I see;

I said, "Lawd look at dat!!"

Ther' wuz a huge watermellon;

Pulled by giant warf rats!!

Now ober all de years;

Santa Clause, he be fat;

But looks liken us bros;

Gets a fat Sanna dis nite.

Faster dan a Po'lees car;

My home boy he came;

He whupped on dem warf rats

An' called dem by name!

On Leroy, on 'Lonzo ;

And on Willie Lee;

On Saphire, on Chenequa;

Dey wuz a site to see!!

As he landed dat watta' mellon;

Out der in da skreet;

I knowed it was fo' sho';

Da damndest site I ebber did see.

He didn't go down no chimbley;

He picked da' lock on my doe;

An' I sez to myself;

"yikes!! He done dis befoe!!!"

He had dis big bag;

Full of prezents I 'xpect;

Wid Air Jordans and fake gold;

To wear roun' my neck.

But he left no good prezents;

Jus started stealing my stuff;

Got my drugs, got my guns,

Even got my burglar's kit!!

Wit my stuff in de bag;

Out da window he flewed;

I woudda' tried to catched him;

But he stoled my 'nife too!!

He jumped on dat wadda' mellon;

An' whipped out a switch;

He wuz gone in a seccon';

Dat son of a bitch!!

Next year I be hopin':

Anutha Sanna we git;

Cuz' diz here Sanna Clause;

Jus' ain't werf a #%$*!!!

 

 

Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Walter Schumacher, OK and NC**

'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...

How to live in a world that's politically correct?

His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".

"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.

And labor conditions at the north pole

Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.

Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,

Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.

And equal employment had made it quite clear

That Santa had better not use just reindeer.

So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,

Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;

The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.

And people had started to call for the cops

When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.

Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite rightened.

His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."

And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,

Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose

And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,

Demanding millions in over-due compensation.

So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,

Who suddenly said she'd had enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,

Demanding from now on her title was Ms.

And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion

That making a choice could cause so much commotion.

Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,

Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

Nothing that might be construed to pollute.

Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.

Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.

Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.

Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.

Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.

No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.

Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.

And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,

Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.

For they raised the hackles of those psychological

Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;

Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.

Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;

And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.

So Santa just stood there,disheveled, perplexed;

He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,

But you've got to be careful with that word today.

His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;

Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.

Something special was needed, a gift that he might

Give to all without angering the left or the right.

A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,

Each group of people, every religion;

Every ethnicity, every hue,

Everyone, everywhere...even you.

So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...

"May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth."

 

 

 

Santa Clause: An Engineer's Perspective

There are approximately two billion children (persons under 18) in the world. However, since Santa does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or Buddhist (except maybe in Japan) religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million (according to the Population Reference Bureau). At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that comes to 108 million homes, presuming that there is at least one good child in each.

Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 967.7 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has around 1/1000th of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh and get on to the next house. Assuming that each of these 108 million stops is evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are now talking about 0.78 miles per household; a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks. This means Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second--3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer can run (at best) 15 miles per hour.

The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium sized Lego set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousand tons, not counting Santa himself. On land, a conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that the "flying" reindeer could pull ten times the normal amount, the job can't be done with eight or even nine of them--Santa would need 360,000 of them. This increases the payload, not counting the weight of the sleigh, another 54,000 tons, or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch).

 

600,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance--this would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer would absorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each. In short, they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team would be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second, or right about the time Santa reached the fifth house on his trip.

 

Not that it matters, however, since Santa, as a result of accelerating from a dead stop to 650 m.p.s. in 0.001 seconds, would be subjected to acceleration forces of 17,500 g's. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of the sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, instantly crushing his bones and organs and reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo.

Therefore, if Santa did exist, he's dead now. Merry Christmas!

-=+=-

 

 

CHRISTMAS SONGS QUIZ #2

**Contributed to Swenny's E-Mail Funnies by Lyn Deadmore Taylor, Atlanta, Georgia**

How many Christmas songs can you identify?

1. The apartment of 2 psychiatrists.

2. The lad is a diminutive percussionist.

3. Decorate the entry-ways.

4. Sir Lancelot with laryngitis.

5. A B C D E F G H I J K M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z.

6. Present me naughty but dual incisors for this festive Yuletide.

7. The smog-less bewitching hour arrived.

8. Exuberation to this orb.

9. 288 Yuletide hours.

10. Do you perceive the same longitudinal pressure which stimulates my auditory sense organs.

11. The red-suited pa is due in this burg.

12. Stepping on the pad cover.

13. Uncouth dolt has his beezer in the booze and thinks he is a Dark Cloud's boyfriend.

14. Far back in a hay bin.

15. Leave and do an elevated broadcast.

16. That exiguous hamlet south of the holy city.

17. Behold! I envisioned a trio of nautical vessels.

18. Listen, the winged heavenly messengers are proclaiming tunefully.

19. A joyful song relative to hollow metallic vessels which vibrate and bring

forth a ringing sound when struck.

20. As the guardians of little woolly animal's protected

 

And the answers:

1. The Nutcracker Suite

2. Little Drummer boy

3. Deck the Halls

4. Silent Night

5. Noel (No L)

6. All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth.

7. It Came upon a Midnight Clear

8. Joy to the World

9. 12 Days of Christmas

10. Do You Hear What I Hear?

11. Santa Claus Is Coming to Town

12. Up on the House Top

13. Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.

14. Away in a Manger

15. Go Tell it on the Mountain

16. O Little Town of Bethlehem

17. I Saw Three Ships

18. Hark the Herald Angels Sing

19. Jingle Bells

20. As Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night

 

back to Quotes, Jokes and Other Funnies

back to Articles and Whole Bunch of Other Stuff

home