Thursday, December 31, 2009

Absolutely Resolute

I Hereby Absolve ...

I Hereby Dissolve ...

I Hereby Resolve ...

I, Hale McKay, being of sound? mind, do heretofore and hereby solemnly resolve, under duress and witness to the scrutiny of my peers, to make and to adhere to the following resolutions forthwith:

Resolution № 1:

... To cut back smoking to only two packs of cigarettes per day, and to limit such consumption to only after the cessation of sex.

Amendment 1-a: One pack ?

Amendment 1-b: One cigarette ?

Amendment 1-c: On the slim chance sex occurs.

Amendment 2: Cancel Resolution № 1 *¹
*¹(Note: Resolutions should not be onerous, difficult or impossible to achieve.)

I, Hale McKay, being of sound? mind, do heretofore and hereby solemnly resolve, under duress and witness to the scrutiny of my peers, to make and to adhere to the following resolutions forthwith:

Resolution № 2

... To make NO resolutions for the New Year.
*² (Note: By making this Resolution, i.e., Resolution № 2, to make NO resolutions, the success to adhere to said Resolution № 2 will be enhanced exponentially.)

New Year's Eve, where auld acquaintance be forgot. Unless, of course, those tests come back positive.
May all your troubles last as long as your New Year's resolutions!

(The concluding installment of "The Quill and the Quire" will appear on Monday, Jan. 4, 2010.)


Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Santa Ignored My List - Again!


Santa, you ignored my list - again!

I told you I was going to post the list on my blog, didn't I?

You'll note that I didn't ask for anything for myself. Look, I'm not ungrateful. I appreciate what you DID bring me this year.

I can always use the underwear, but I prefer briefs over boxers. What's with the tube socks - and where's the *&^#ing heel?

That sure is a nifty barbecue apron and matching mitt with the Coca Cola logo. ( Now all I gotta do is buy an outdoor grill so I can use them.)

What an interesting flashlight! You don't need batteries. You just shake it back and forth in your hand a few times and - voila - it lights up. You know, with the same motion I can ...(ahem).

Aw, how cute! WTF? A Chia Pet bust of ... President Obama? Really!

Thanks for the gift certificates to that restaurant. I think I remember that McDonalds was selling those for 10 for $5 with the purchase of any Value Meal. I can see that you spared no expense there. ( I hope you enjoyed that Big Mac, biggie fries and large drink.)

That mood DVD was sort of neat, but I think it was defective. It was nice to see those logs burning in a fireplace on my TV set, but I don't think it's going to save me much on my heating bill. ( Maybe you should have given me one of those blankets with the sleeves.)

The desk calendar will come in handy. 365 Wacky Web Sites, eh? ( Like I don't spend enough time on the computer as it is!)

You know, I think I'll let you off the hook, Santa. I realize you're a busy man with a lot of responsibilities and demands placed upon you. ( I don't want to know what you do in your spare time cooped up in that shack at the North Pole with all those elves ...)

Here's the deal. I'm giving you my Christmas list for NEXT year now! Like this year's list, I'm posting it here on my site also. ( A redhead like the one pictured would make a nice accessory.)

There's no pressure. You've got a whole year to work on it. In the meantime, I'll use my new flashlight to stay in (ahem) shape, if you get my drift.

Maybe next year you'll deliver the goods.

I believe in you!


Tuesday, December 29, 2009

That's Another Wrap !

(From my archives of December, 2005, I have resurrected (and edited) this post which reflected on the passing of Christmas. Four years later, despite the changes in the world and an economy in turmoil, commercialization still reigns supreme over spirituality.)

By now, allowing for the rotation of the earth, everyone has seen Christmas come and pass. The celebrations are over. The feasts have been ingested, if not digested.

Most have assessed their booty. Gifts have been sorted into separate stacks - one for the keepers, one for re-gifting, and another for returns. Crumpled and tattered paper has been reduced to the undignified fate of filling trash containers, bearing little resemblance to the proud dressing that once adorned gifts.

Some of the stuff will remain beneath the once shining tree, a display of the haul taken in by each member of the household.

Who among us can claim they are humbled before that treasure? While we look upon our spoils, do we remember, or even try to remember what it all represents?
I wonder what the Magi would think if they had set out following a star in the sky in today's world. I think they would just keep riding toward the horizon and not look back. (That is if the expressway wasn't bumper to bumper.)

Their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh would probably end up in the re-gifting pile today. The kid wanted an X-Box. Ralphie would have shot their eyes out with his Red Ryder B-B gun.

Meanwhile the State fuzz have pulled Gaspar, Melchior and Balthasar over for operating camels without a valid license. It seems that they will be booked for smuggling contraband across the border. No one will believe these Camel Cowboys about a moving star heralding the birth of a king.

These three wise men would then be held in custody until officials of Homeland Security arrived. After being stripped searched for explosives, biological agents and deadly chemicals, they would be rewarded for their efforts with an all-expenses paid vacation at an exclusive tropical resort in Guantanamo. Some Wise men, traveling without passports!

Another Christmas has passed, and there is little doubt that even fewer people will ponder about the true meaning of Christmas and the reason for giving.

I too, have become lost in the commercialization of Christmas. Yet, I can sit back and proudly say that I know the story. I know the reason, and I know that we aren't worthy. When the day comes that we remember the spirit of the giving before the receiving, then and only then will we be worthy.


Thursday, December 24, 2009

Merry Christmas To All

I wish everyone the happiest for the holiday season. While it wasn't possible to send everyone a physical Christmas card, I decided to do the next best thing. I scanned a few Christmas cards for the readers who stop by:
Pick the one below you like the best and consider it a card from me to you!

For the readers awaiting the next installment of the story, "The Quill and the Quire," that penultimate chapter will appear here on Monday, 12/28.


Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Little Johnny's Christmas

It is near the Christmas school break. The teacher has turned in all her grades. All the kids are restless because there is nothing to do and it is near the end of the day.

The teacher says, "Whoever answers the questions I ask first and correctly can leave early today."

Little Johnny says to himself, "Good, I want to get outta here. I'm smart and will answer the question".

The teacher asked, "Who said 'Four Score and Seven Years Ago'?"

Before Johnny could open his mouth, Susie said, "Abraham Lincoln". The teacher said, "That's right Susie. You can go". Johnny was MAD.

he teacher asked, "Who said, 'I Have a Dream'?"

Before Johnny could open his mouth, Mary said, "Martin Luther King". The teacher said, "That's right Mary. You can go". Johnny was even MADDER than before.

The teacher asked, "Who said 'Ask not, what your country can do for you'?"

Before Johnny could open his mouth, Nancy said, "John Kennedy". The teacher said, "That's right Nancy . You can go". Johnny was BOILING MAD.

Then the teacher turned her back, and Johnny said, "I wish these bitches would keep their mouths shut".

The teacher whirled around and asked, "WHO SAID THAT?"

Johnny said, "TIGER WOODS! CAN I GO NOW?"

Johnny's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

You must be surprised that I'm writing to you today, the 26th of December. Well, I would very much like to clear up certain things that have occurred since the beginning of the month, when, filled with illusion, I wrote you my letter. I asked for a bicycle, an electric train set, a pair of roller blades, and a football uniform.

I destroyed my brain studying the whole year. Not only was I the first in my class, but I had the best grades in the whole school. I'm not going to lie to you, there was no one in my entire neighborhood that behaved better than me, with my parents, my brothers, my friends, and with my neighbors. I would go on errands, and even help the elderly cross the street. There was virtually nothing within reach that I would not do for humanity.

What balls do you have leaving me a f**king yo-yo, a stupid whistle and a pair of socks. What the f**k were you thinking, you fat son of a bitch, that you've taken me for a sucker the whole f**king year to come out with some shit like this under the tree. As if you hadn't f**ked me enough, you gave that little faggot across the street so many toys that he can't even walk into his house.

Please don't let me see you trying to fit your big fat ass down my chimney next year. I'll f**k you up. I'll throw rocks at those stupid reindeer and scare them away so you'll have to walk back to the f**king North Pole, just like what I have to do now since you didn't get me that f**king bike. F**ck you, Santa. Next year you'll find out how bad I can be, you fat son-of-a-bitch!


Little Johnny

Santa's Answer to Little Johnny

Dear Johnny,

I know WHO you are, and I KNOW where you live. You little sh*t! You can't talk to SANTA like that and get away with it!

If you don't like the yo-yo, which is a classic toy, by the way, then you can just cram it up your little ass! As for the whistle you didn't care for -- I gotcha whistle right here!!! Come blow on this! And the socks...well, I figured you are big enough to be whacking off, and those sox would have come in handy and been handy to ... well, even you should get the picture!

And... that little "faggot" across the street, you'll be happy to know that he's already got pubic hair and his whang is TWICE as long as yours. Besides, his parents think YOU're the fag --always moanin' and whinin'.

Don't worry about gathering up rocks for my visit to your house next year, 'cause I ain't coming down your chimbly ever again. If you find any pennies this year, you had better stop and pick them up, 'cause that's about all you're going to get for Christmas. Your mom and dad are doing to be killed in a car crash, and you'll be stuck in an orphanage before Thanksgiving.

Bad? You want BAD? I'll show you who's bad!

Affectionally, Adieu,


Little Johnny's Ransom

ittle Johnny desperately wanted a bright red wagon for Christmas. His friends were writing letters to Santa Claus, so Johnny decided to do them one better.

"Dear Jesus," he wrote, "If I get a red wagon for Christmas, I will not fight with my brother Hank for a year." Then Johnny thought, 'Oh, no, Hank is such a brat, I could never, ever keep that promise.' So Johnny threw away the letter and wrote another one.

"Dear Jesus, if I get a red wagon for Christmas, I will eat all my vegetables for a year." Then Johnny thought, 'Oh, no, that means spinach and asparagus. Yuck! I could never ever keep that promise.'

Then Johnny had an idea. He threw away the paper and went downstairs to the living room. From the mantel above the fireplace, he grabbed the family's statue of the Virgin Mary. Taking the statue to the kitchen he wrapped it in newspapers then stuffed the newspapers into a grocery bag.

He took the package upstairs to his room, opened the closet and placed the whole works in the farthest, darkest corner. Then he closed the closet door tightly, took a new sheet of paper and wrote: "Dear Jesus. If you ever want to see your mother again..."

Johnny Meets Santa

Little Johnny had been waiting in a long line to sit on the department store Santa's lap before he finally gets his turn at it and climbs up.

Santa says to little Johnny, touching the little boy on the nose with his finger, "I'll bet you'd like a puppy for Christmas."

Johnny shakes his head, "No."

Santa touches the little Johnny's nose with his finger again, "Well, then I'll bet you'd like a kitten for Christmas."

Johnny again shakes his head, "No..."

The department store Santa then asked, "Well then, what would you like for Christmas, little boy?"

Johnny replies with a big grin, "I want some p*ssy!!!"

Santa, startled and almost speechless, stutters, "Well, I don't have any of that!?!?"

Little Johnny, touching Saint Nick on nose, answers back smiling, "Yes you do, because I can smell it on your finger!"

Johnny Packs His Bags

One day Little Johnny went to his father, and asked him if he could buy him a $200 bicycle for his birthday. Little Johnny's father said, "Johnny, we have a $80,000 mortgage on the house, and you want me to buy you a bicycle??? Wait until Christmas!"

Christmas came around, and Little Johnny asked again. The father said, "Well, the mortgage is still extremely high, sorry kiddo. Ask me again some other time."

Well, about 2 days later, the boy was seen walking out of the house with all his belongings in a suitcase. The father felt sorry for him, and asked him why he was leaving.

Little Johnny said, "Yesterday I was walking past your room, and I heard you say that you were 'pulling out,' and mommy said that 'you should wait because she was coming, too....'

"And I'll be DAMNED if I'm gonna stuck with your $80,000 mortgage!"


Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Winter Hazards

With a great deal of the Eastern Seaboard blanketed in snow, here's a couple of winter hazards of which you should be aware:

Making Snow Angels

Slippery Sidewalks

Oh no, not another parodied version of "The Twelve Days of Christmas" :

The Eco-Politically Correct "Twelve Days of Christmas"

ON THE TWELFTH DAY of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my "Significant Other" in a consenting adult, monogamous relationship presented to me, with the expectation of receiving similar-valued merchandise in return:

TWELVE Percussionists connecting with their "inner warrior" through ritualistic pounding on cylinders topped with the stretched hides of cruelly slain bovines,

ELEVEN Members of the Pipers Union earning their living (plus an 18-member pit orchestra consisting of members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as required in their contract even though they will not be asked to play a note),

TEN melanin-deprived, testosterone-poisoned Scions of the Patriarchal Ruling Class springing athletically in Step Aerobics Class,

NINE Culturally Advantaged Females in formal attire moving in rhythmic, physical, artistic self-expression to musical accompaniment,

EIGHT disadvantaged Rural Young Women, extracting (through economic pressure) lactose products from enslaved Bovine-Americans,

SEVEN endangered Swans a-swimming on federally protected wetlands while being relentlessly pursued by barbarous NRA supporters,

SIX enslaved long-necked Fowl-Americans honking in obvious protest to the affront of being made to produce non-right-to-life ova for human consumption,

FIVE Golden Symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced mutual monogamy,
(NOTE: After the Animal Liberation Front threatened with prosecution, the Calling Birds, French Hens and Partridge have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid further Animal-American enslavement, my Significant Other has revised the remaining items of the midwinter package as follows:)
FOUR hours of recorded Whale Songs,

THREE Sierra Club Calendars printed on recycled reprocessed tree carcasses,

TWO endangered Sea Turtle website addresses,

and a "Save-the-Spotted-Owl" activist chaining himself to an old-growth Pear Tree!

p.s. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Felice Navidad. Oh, heck! -- Happy Holidays!!*
* Unless, of course, you're suffering from Seasonally Affected Disorder (SAD). If this be the case, please substitute this gratuitous call for celebration with a suggestion that you have a "thoroughly adequate December."

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Ben Stein Makes Sense

I remember reading this a while back, maybe two years ago? My sisters recently e-mailed it to me. The article touches upon one of my pet peeves - political correctness. That peeve is never more as irritant as it is this time of year. Is it a Christmas tree, or should it be called a Holiday tree? Do we say Merry Christmas, or should we wish everyone a Happy Holiday?

I've often expressed my take on this matter in my blog, but I've never put it as eloquently as Ben Stein did in front of the TV cameras.

-Thanks Brenda and Diane

Remarks from CBS Sunday Morning - Ben Stein

I Only hope we find GOD again before it is too late ! !

The following was written by Ben Stein and recited by him on CBS Sunday Morning Commentary.

My confession:

I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled trees, Christmas trees. I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are, Christmas trees.

It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, 'Merry Christmas' to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it
. It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu . If people want a creche, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.

I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.

Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God as we understand Him? I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from and where the America we knew went to.

In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her 'How could God let something like this happen?' (regarding Hurricane Katrina).. Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response. She said, 'I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives. And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?'

In light of recent events.... terrorists attack, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK. Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said okay.

Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.'

Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell. Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says. Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing. Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.

Are you laughing yet?

Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it.

Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.

Pass it on if you think it has merit.

If not, then just discard it... no one will know you did. But, if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in.

My Best Regards, Honestly and respectfully,

Ben Stein


Wednesday, December 16, 2009

'Twas Santa's Night Before Christmas

'Twas the Night before Christmas - Old Santa was pissed.
He cussed out the elves and threw down the list.

Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks,
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works!

I've busted my butt for almost a year,
Instead of "Thanks Santa!" - What do I hear?

The old lady bitches, cause I work late at night,
The elves want more money - the reindeer all fight!

Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids,
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS.

And just when I thought that things would get better,
Those jerks from the IRS sent me a letter.

It says I owe taxes. If that ain't damn funny,
Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money?

And the kids these days- they are all the pits.
They want the impossible.. those mean little twits!

I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds
Assembling dolls, their arms, legs, and heads.

I made a ton of yo-yos - no request for them.
They all want computers.. they think I'm IBM!

If you think that is bad.. just picture this..
Try holding those little brats, with their pants full of piss.

They pull at your nose, they grab at my beard
And if I don't smile, the parent's think that I'm weird.

Flying though the air, dodging the trees...
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees...

I'm quittin this job, there's just no enjoyment.
I'll sit on my fat butt and draw unemployment.

There's no Christmas this year, now you know the reason..
I've found me a blonde... I'm going south for the season!

_Dave, I don't know you, but thanks for e-mailing this to me.


Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Who Is This Christmas Carol?

...And What's She Doing on My Lawn?

Hi there, y'all! Santa Cletus here. I'm a droppin' by to spread some good ol' fashun Christmas cheer.

It's a festive time of year. Yup, it's a time fer plannin' parties and get togethers wiff friends and family alike. My buddies and me we wuz a plannin' to do some carousin' down at the new Hooters what jest opened up last week on the outskirts of town.

Hell, we's jest a bunch of good ol' boys what wants to have a good time. That's all. But my wife looks at thangs contrary to the way I do. When I told her 'bout our plans, gosh-a-mighty iffin she didn't hit the ceilin'.

She asked why I wanted to go to that din of equity fer in the firs' place.

Well, I answered her all smug-like and said I cud think of at least two reasons.

Lawd a-mighty! You ain't ever had a headache 'til you done got walloped wiffin a cast iron skillet atop yer noggin! I wuz a seein' so many stars, they wuz a formin' consolations.

Well I uppin and grabbed my jug and went outside to sit on the porch fer a spell. I put a plug of Skoal twixt my cheek and gums and sat there a mindin' my own bizness. I figgered I cudn't get into much more trubble wiffin the ol' lady with that ol' transmission a propped agin the screen door so's she couldn't come out.

Then I heared sum God-awful sound like what a wounded hound dog might make. Then I saw this woman comin' outta the woods and trespassin' on my property. When I got a good look at her I realized she wuz one of them gals what sings in the balcony on Sundays down at the church.

Despite fallin' down a couple of times and by all appearances a looking like she wuz drunker than a cat in a bag of catnip, she gave me a holler. She said she wuz out and 'bout a Christmas caroling. She said she wuz full of the Christmas spirit. One thang was fer sure. She was full of some kind of spirits.

Well, she began a singin' that there 12 Days of Christmas song. Tarnation, iffin all them coons, possums and coyotes out yonder in the woods didn't start joinin' in.

It jest so happens I was able to tape her number. See that there box down there 'neath these words I'm a typin'? All ya gotta do is click on that triangle thingie and like magic you can hear what she wuz a singin'.

Purty soon she jest crawled away into the woods. I s'pect she must a slept it off out yonder somewhere in the woods.

Well, that put me in the mood fer some more Christmas music. So's I went back in the house, cranked up the phonograph and put on my favorite Christmas record. It's all about the angel what sits on top of Christmas trees this time of year.

Iffin ya have the gumption and want to hear the song, jest press that triangle thingie on that next box down yonder.

I have some other Christmas records I like too. Theys some purty good songs. Maybe you've heared tell of them.

I'll Be Stoned For Christmas ¹

I Came Upon a Roadkill Deer ²

Chipmunks Roasting on an Open Fire ³

Sung to the tunes of:

¹ - I'll be Home For Christmas
² - It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
³ - Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire


Saturday, December 12, 2009

The X-mas Files: Part Deux

The Fruitcake Conspiracy

"Mulder, I got here as fast as I could," said Agent Dana Scully as she squeezed through the crowd of onlookers who had gathered at the scene.

"Scully, glad you could make it," replied her partner, Fox Mulder.

"I heard the reports on the radio. Why are we investigating a homicide?" she asked. "...And what's it got to do with The X-mas Files?"

"Scully, that's the report they're giving to the press. They aren't going to release the truth. It would cause a nationwide panic!"

"O-o-o-kay! What do we have?" she asked kneeling by the covered body.

"The victim," he said while pausing to look at his notebook, "John Armstead, was struck in the head by an alien projectile. That projectile was no doubt fired earthward from a spaceship in a low earth orbit. I submit that its perigee was such as to prevent detection from earthbound observatories. Based upon the position of the victim's body and where the projectile landed, I was able to extrapolate its trajectory. It entered earth's atmosphere from the south southwest. I should be able to triangulate the probable location of said craft."

"Mulder!" Scully expounded. "I'm afraid there's a more simple and logical explanation as to what happened here."

"Scully, haven't I always told you that the truth was out there? Well, what was out there - is now down here." Mulder moved away from the body and said, "Follow me. Wait till you see the projectile!"

Scully gasped and stammered, "I .. I .. don't believe it!"

"Aha! You're as speechless as I was when I stumbled upon it."

"Fruitcake!" she pontificated.

He shook his head and admonished her, "Scully, you don't have to resort to name calling. I've come to expect that from those who'd close down the X-mas Files, but not from my own partner."

"But Mulder," she said.

"Just look at it, Scully," he said interrupting her. "Its composition is not of this earth. I feel confident in speculating that it is made up of previously unknown elements. It's obviously indestructible as it survived, intact, the entry into our atmosphere. That means it's impervious to extreme heat. Tell me, what would you make of it?"

"Make of it? Me? I'd probably re-gift it, or maybe use it as a doorstop." she replied.

He looked at her crestfallen, "Be serious, Scully. This is the single most important discovery in the history of mankind - proof that we are not alone! All of my life and my entire career I've been laughed at and been made the butt of their jokes. Now ... now they'll want to name this substance after me." He was thoughtful for a moment and announced, "Mulderite! How does that sound for a name for it?"

"I have a better one, Mulder," she said placing her fists upon her hips. "Fruitcake."

"Scully, why are you mocking me?" Mulder asked. "Oh, never mind. Let's get it to your lab for scientific analysis. When we break it down into its constituent elements ..."

"Mulder, I can tell you right now what its constituent elements are." With one finger touching in turn the fingers on her other hand she enumerated, "There's going to be all-purpose flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, candied fruits, walnuts, brown sugar, molasses and maybe some brandy ..."

"That's amazing, Scully. You were able to make that assessment just by looking at the projectile?" He rubbed his finger against his chin and mused, "Imagine, that with their advanced alien technology, those extra-terrestrials were able to produce a weapon comprised of elements identical to those found on earth."

"Mulder! It's not a projectile. It's not a weapon from outer space. It's a fruitcake!"

"A cleverly disguised one, wouldn't you say?"

"You're incorrigible," she exclaimed in exasperation. She handed him a copy of a police report, "Look, here's the report of the investigation held by the local law enforcement officers. Mr. Armstead and his wife had gotten into a heated argument regarding his fidelity. He stormed out of the house with his wife shouting after him. In a rage, she picked up the handiest object she could find and threw it at him. It just happened that that object was a fruitcake that she'd been using as a doorstop."

"Scully, do you realize what you are saying?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed. "Armstead died as a result of being struck with a fruitcake."

"Listen to you, Scully," Mulder shouted. "That means this is an X-mas Files case."

"What? Okay, I'll bite," she shrugged. "How is this a case for the X-mas Files?"

"It's been long theorized that there is only one known fruitcake in existence. It has some strange, and as yet unexplained, ability to appear unexpectedly almost anywhere in the world. For some reason this ability manifests itself right around the Christmas holiday." He puffed out his chest and added, "It is possible that there in front of us is a second one!"

She shook her head, "You might be right. I'm looking at two of them this very minute."

He scanned the police report and said with an excited smile, "Scully, it's says here that the Armstead's have been married for thirty-five years. I ask you, why would she wait until now to inexplicably kill her husband?"

"Mulder, they were fighting. It was an unfortunate accident - a crime of passion."

"Or ... or she was under alien influence," he countered.

"I'm not hearing you ..." she said as she turned to walk away.

"Think about it, Scully. That object, disguised as a fruitcake, could well be a vessel from which something was released into the atmosphere ... perhaps spores which the wife breathed in ... or maybe it housed an alien in gaseous form that entered her body ... or it emanated a mind-controlling signal at a frequency humans cannot hear ... or ... "
( Like this parody? Check out the first X-mas Files case . )

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Let There Be Lights


After several exciting dates, Jim invited Tina over to his house for a home-cooked dinner.

When she sat down at the table, she noticed that the dishes were the dirtiest that she had ever seen in her life.

"Have these dishes ever been washed?" Tina asked, running her fingers over the grit and grime.

Jim replied, "They're as clean as soap and water could get them."

Tina felt a bit apprehensive, but started eating. It was really delicious and she said so, despite the dirty dishes.

When dinner was over, Jim took the dishes outside, whistled and yelled for his dogs, "Here, Soap! Here, Water!"

Fuel Stop

A guy comes into a coffee shop and places his order...

... he says "I want three flat tires and a pair of headlights and a pair of running boards."

The waitress, not wanting to appear stupid, goes to the kitchen and asks the cook, "This guy out there just ordered three flat tires and a pair of headlights and pair of running boards. What does he think, this is an auto parts store?"

"No" the cook says, "three flat tires means three pancakes and a pair of headlights is two eggs sunny side up and running boards is 2 slices crisp bacon."

"Oh," says the waitress. She thinks about this for a while, and then she spoons up a bowl of beans and gives it to the customer.

The guy says, "What are the beans for?"

The waitress replies, "I thought while you were waiting for the flat tires, headlights and running boards, you might want to gas up."

Lucky Day

A man goes to the doctor to find out about his tests.

"It's real bad, I'm afraid", says the doc "you've got a disease so new that it hasn't even got a name yet - we just call it 'Blue 56'. The only certain thing is that you'll be dead in three days"

Naturally the guy is devastated, and goes into a big depression. His girlfriend suggests they go to Vegas to cheer him up just a bit till the end comes. So he goes reluctantly. As he walks into the Casino, he's the millionth customer and wins a brand new Rolls Royce. Then he pulls the handle of a slot machine as he passes, and wins the golden jackpot of $7m. He sits down for a rest at the Blackjack table and wins $100,000 - straight 21's and he can't even be bothered to turn the cards. Weighed down with money, he throws it onto the nearest table. But it's the roulette wheel and the money is on 22 - which promptly comes up!

"Jeez," says the croupier, "I never seen luck like that in my whole life!"

"No, you don't understand" says the guy "I've got blue 56"

"Whoa!! Now you've won the raffle!!"

Oh, the tangled web we weave...

we that weave tangled Christmas lights.

As if you didn't know, what happens when I start musing? Why I find the inspiration to parody a Christmas song, of course!

Tangled Lights
(Sung to the tune of Jingle Bells)

Thrashing through the box
For a working set of lights
I could smash em with rocks
Cursing with all my might.
Lights on tangled strings
I tug, pull and I jerk
What hell it is to find one thing
That maybe just might work.

Tangled lights, tangled lights,
Tangled in every way,
Oh how I'd like to find
One working set to display.
O,Tangled lights, tangled lights,
Tangled in every way,
Oh what fun it is to find
Just one that works today.

An hour or so ago
I thought I'd write a blog
And soon Miss Cellania might
Add a link to her site.
The words are mean and rank
The torture seemed my lot,
Blew a fuse, my poor heart sank
I need some booze and some pot.


Now the lights are aglow
Come see 'em if you will,
I'll charge admission so
I can pay the electric bill.
Next year I think I'll buy
A set,two or three or four
I'll put them up in July
And take them down nevermore!



Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Wacky Wassailing & Crazy Caroling

Unless you've been stranded on a deserted island somewhere, you've no doubt been hearing Christmas carols since Halloween.

One of my favorite traditions of the Yuletide Season is to post my original parodies of those familiar Christmas lyrics. My first attempt at that practice this year has been inspired by the indiscretions of a well-known sports figure.

Tiger the Golf Man

-Sung to the tune of
"Frosty the Snowman"

Tiger the golf man was a jolly horny soul
With a Nike cap and a bright red shirt
And his two eyes on every hole.
Tiger the golf man is a superstar they say
He was as pure as snow but the paparazzi
know how he fell from grace one day.

There must have been some magic when the
pants he wore were down
For when he pulled them to his knees
It began to dance around

O Tiger the golf man was as horny as he could be
and the women say he could drive and putt
better than you and me.

Humpetty hump hump
Humpetty hump hump
Look at Tiger go
Humpetty hump hump
Humpetty hump hump
All the girls in a row

Tiger the golf man knew that the heat was on that day
So he said, "I'll run coz it'll be no fun
now before she swings away.
To the end of the driveway with a nine iron in her hand
Chasing him here and there all around and saying
"I'll hit you as hard as I can."

He led her onto the streets of town right into a fire plug
And she paused a moment when
she heard him holler "What the fug!"
For Tiger the golf man had to worry on this day
he waved his girlfriends goodbye
"Don't you cry, I'll be putting again some day."

Humpetty hump hump
Humpetty hump hump
Look at Tiger go
Humpetty hump hump
Humpetty hump hump
More girls than we know.


Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Dear Santa

The kiddies are trying to be good this time of year. They are firing off those letters to Santa! From my archives of 12/3/07, here's a sampling of those letters and Santa's responses:

When Santa Runs Out Of Prozac

Dear Santa,
I've written you for three years now asking for a fire truck.
Please, I really really want a fire truck this year!
Love, Joey
Dear Joey,
Let me make it up to you. Christmas Eve, while you sleep, I'm gonna torch your house. You'll have more fire trucks than you'll know what to do with.
- Santa
Dear Santa,
I don't know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I'd like for
my mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can
Love, Teddy
Dear Teddy,
What, and ruin that hot affair your dad's still having with the babysitter? He's banging her like a screen door in a hurricane, son! Let me get you some nice Legos instead.
- Santa
Dear Santa,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots
or your reindeer outside the backdoor.
Love, Susan
Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the shits and carrots make the deer fart in my face. You want to be a kiss-ass? Leave me a glass of Chivas Regal and some Toblerone.
Dear Santa,
I really really want a puppy this year. Please please please PLEASE
- Jimmy
That whiney-begging shit may work with your folks, but that crap don't work up here. You're getting a sweater again.
- Santa
Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you making toys?
Your friend, Thomas
Dear Thomas,
All toys get made in China. I have a condo in Vegas, where I spend most my time squeezing cocktail waitresses asses, and losing all my cash at the craps table. Hey, YOU wanted to know!
- Santa
Dear Santa,
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur for Xmas. Iv ben a good boy all
Dear Billy,
Nice spelling. You're on your way to being a career lawncare specialist. How 'bout I send you a f**king book so you can learn to read and write? I'm giving your older brother the space ranger, at least HE can spell!
Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is
peace and joy in the world for everybody!
Love, Sarah
Dear Sarah,
Your parents smoked pot when they had you, didn't they?
- Santa
Dear Santa,
I need more Pokemon cards please! All my friends have more Pokemon cards than me. Please see what you can do.
Love, Michelle
Dear Michelle,
It blows my f**king mind. Kids are forcing their parents to buy hundreds of dollars worth of these stupid cards, and none of you snot-nosed brats are even learning to play the game. Let me get you something more your speed, like "Chutes and Ladders."
- Santa
Dear Santa,
I want a new bike, playstation, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a drum kit, a pony and a tuba.
Love, Francis
Dear Francis,
Who the f**k names their kid "Francis" nowadays?
- Santa
Dear Santa,
Do you see us when we're sleeping, do you really know when we're awake, like in the song?
Love, Jessica
Dear Jessica,
You are that gullible? Good luck in whatever you do, I'm skipping your house...
- Santa
Dearest Santa,
We don't have a chimney in our house, how do you get into our home?
Love, Marky
Firstly, stop calling yourself "Marky"; that's why you're getting your ass whipped at school. Secondly, you don't live in a house, that's a low-rent apartment complex you're living in. Thirdly, I get inside your pad just like all the burglars do, through your bedroom window. Sweet Dreams!
- Santa