Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts

Monday, December 25, 2006

Christmas, What Does It Mean?

Happy Christmas (War Is Over)

So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young

For me, the picture above captures not only the fictional but the true essence of Christmas. It is a nice blend of the commercial and of the spiritual.


A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

I'm sure that most everyone will recognize the genius in these lyrics by the late John Lennon. As I attempt to wax serious with this post, I'm afraid that I cannot express myself as eloquently as he. I shall not try to do so.
....I find it ironic that it is the fictional character who has become more emblematic of the holiday than the one for whom it is named. Why does that not come as a surprise to me? I'm afraid that the worship of the all mighty dollar is all the God needed and thus worthy of homage.

And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong
And so Happy Christmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let's stop all the fight

Save the children whose innocence allows them to still see the magic of Christmas, the messages of our Gods, regardless of what nations worship them, seem not to speak of peace on earth or goodwill toward all men.
....Alas, the words of Lennon and other visionaries fall upon deaf ears. How then could I think my feeble words might be heard? I'd like to think that just one person might have pause to consider these few lines. If they choose to ignore my thoughts, then maybe, just maybe someone might really comprehend what Lennon had to say.

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

Innocence is lost on the young, and like those who preceded them down life's path, they too will no longer believe. Yet, they will hold onto the image of that mythical visitor on Christmas Eve. They will know too, that wonderful story of the babe born in Bethlehem. Sadly, they will think it a nice story and nothing more. That embraced by the innocent, fades with the loss of innocence. Aging is their fate.

And so this is Christmas
And what have we done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so Happy Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

Have you ever listened to the lyrics of this song? I have, and curiously, the meaning seems to be clearer to me when I read the lyrics rather than listening or singing along to them.
....As such, let us take heed in the words of the bard:

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

War is over if you want it
War is over now


To all of you who read this, moreover to those who believe, remember to keep "Christ" in Christmas. "Merry" and "Happy" will fall into place.


No.842

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Uplifting Gifting


'Tis better to give than it is to receive.

Try selling that crock to someone who got a crappy gift! Why not convince Frosty the Snowman that a Vidal Sassoon hair drier is more practical than a snow blower. (Okay, so Frosty's a dirty old snowman.)
....Try to convince a kid that a pair of pink bunny slippers from Auntie Grace is a better gift than a Sony Play Station.
....There is a commercial that beat me to the punch, but I think there's a Rolling Stones song that should become a regular Christmas carol. It would be the perfect anthem for bad gifts and those who receive them. The song? You Can't Always Get What You Want.

So, to the backdrop of that song, here's some suggested gifts for some celebrities:

For Rosie O'Donnell -Since she never seems to know when to keep her big mouth shut: some organic food, delivered by carrier pigeon.

For Norm and Steve -a fix up job at the famous Chicken Ranch.

If you are a parent, you are no doubt experienced in the third shift at the factory. Of course, I am referring to the late night chore of wrapping the Christmas gifts that Santa left on Christmas Eve. (Hey, if he's so great, then why doesn't the "tubby one" deliver the gifts already wrapped?)
....And if that crack team of elves is so proficient, then why aren't all the toys put together? Some assembly required? Indeed! The reverberations of my expletives deleted the night I struggled to assemble that Barbie Recreation Vehicle, can still sometimes be heard in my house.
....The stage is set for another version of Moore's Night Before Christmas:

Assembly Required*

'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
I searched for the tools to hand to my spouse.
Instructions were studied and we were inspired,
In hopes we could manage "Some Assembly Required."
The children were quiet in their beds,
While Dad and I faced the evening with dread:
In the kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's town house to boot!
And, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!
We opened the boxes, my heart skipped a beat....
Let no pieces be missing or parts incomplete!
Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;
If we can't get it right, it goes down in the basement!
When what to my worrying eyes should appear,
But 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,
With each part numbered and every slot named,
So if there were failure, only we could be blamed.
More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out,
All over the floor they were scattered about.
"Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there!
Slide on the seats, where the metal is bare!
Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand."
"Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand."
And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact
That all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact
To keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night
With "assembly required" till morning's first light.
We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work,
Till our eyes, they went bleary; our fingers all hurt.
The coffee went cold and the night it wore thin
Before we attached the last rod and last pin.
Then laying the tools away in the chest,
We fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.
But I said to my husband just before I passed out,
"This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.
Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring,
And not have to run to the store for a thing!
"We did it! We did it! The toys are all set
For the perfect, most perfectest Christmas, I bet!"
Then off to dreamland, at last sweet repose
I gratefully went, although I suppose
There's something to say for those self-deluded
I'd forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!

(*I'd love to claim this as my own, but alas it's the work of that tireless author, Anonymous.)

Now that my gift wrapping is finally all done, I can return my attention to my shrink - my keyboard. Here's a couple of funny quickies for you:

Did you hear about the successful female stock broker who had a blind date with a Redneck? It didn't work out. She was NASDAQ and he was NASCAR.

Remember ladies you'll always have an hourglass figure. It just that the older you get everything on the top falls to the bottom.

After all the gifting today, I need to give myself a gift. I'll pamper myself with a cup of hot coffee, with a healthy uplifting shot of Bailey's substituting for the milk.

No.841

Friday, December 22, 2006

Christmukah*

Continuing the current trend of large-scale mergers and acquisitions ..
... It was announced today at a press conference that Christmas and Chanukah will merge.

An industry source said that the deal had been in the works for about 1300 years, ever since the rise of the Muslim Empire.

While details were not available at press time, it is believed that the overhead cost of having twelve days of Christmas and eight days of Chanukah was becoming prohibitive for both sides.

By combining forces, we're told, the world will be able to enjoy consistently high-quality service during the Fifteen Days of Christmukah, as the new holiday is being called.

Massive layoffs are expected, with lords a-leaping and maids a-milking being the hardest hit. As part of the conditions of the agreement, the letters on the Dreydl, currently in Hebrew, will be replaced by Latin, thus becoming unintelligible to a wider audience.

Also, instead of translating to "A great miracle happened there," the message on the Dreydl will be the more generic "Miraculous stuff happens."

In exchange, it is believed that Jews will be allowed to use Santa Claus and his vast merchandising resources for buying and delivering their gifts. In fact, one of the sticking points holding up the agreement for at least three hundred years was the question of whether Jewish children could leave milk and cookies for Santa even after having eaten meat for dinner. A breakthrough came last year, when Oreos were finally declared to be Kosher. All sides appeared happy about this.

A spokesman for Christmas, Inc., declined to say whether a takeover of Kwanzaa might not be in the works as well. He merely pointed out that, were it not for the independent existence of Kwanzaa, the merger between Christmas and Chanukah might indeed be seen as an unfair cornering of the holiday market. Fortunately for all concerned, he said, Kwanzaa will help to maintain the competitive balance.

He then closed the press conference by leading all present in a rousing rendition of "Oy, Come All Ye Faithful."

*(This is another gem "borrowed" from Emmitsburg.)

Weeweechu

One beautiful December evening Huan Cho and his girlfriend Jung
Lee were sitting by the side of the ocean. It was a romantic full
moon, when Huan Cho said "Hey baby, let's play Weeweechu."
...."Oh no, not now, lets look at the moon" said Jung Lee.
...."Oh, c'mon baby, let's you and I play Weeweechu. I love you and
it's the perfect time," Huan Cho Begged.
...."But I rather just hold your hand and watch the moon."
...."Please Jung Lee, just once play Weeweechu with me."
....Jung Lee looked at Huan Chi and said, "OK, we'll play Weeweechu."
....Huan Cho grabbed his guitar and they both sang....."Weeweechu a
Merry Christmas, Weeweechu a Merry Christmas, Weeweechu a Merry
Christmas, and a Happy New Year."

AND SO DO I!

No.839

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Olio*: the Blog Spread

(*Olio-a mixture or medley; oft used crossword answer; also the theme of this post.)

Have you seen the official Bush family Christmas card? Transcribed from the audio submitted to the printing company, it seems that the translator had trouble deciphering Bush-ese. It is also possible that the President's Hooked on Phonics lessons is still stuck on nuclear and hasn't yet reached the word peace.
....Fortunately, the printer deleted the rest of Bush's message. They weren't quite sure just what was intended with the following words: and good swill to men.


Every time you turn around you have to go find a card for some holiday or celebration or whatever.

Tired of all those trips to the Card Shop? Are you overwhelmed by the miles upon miles of cards on display? Is it a pretty card? Is the prose or poem inside too sappy? Can you find the friggin' envelope for the one you finally chose? Is it a Hallmark? Who cares? Who cares what card company is bilking you out of $4.99 for 26 cents worth of card stock? If they are so materialistic to look at the back to see if it's a Hallmark, then they'll be disappointed to find no check enclosed.
....Spending too much time surfing those free e-card sites? Just think of all the time that could be better spent on e-Bay or Amazon. Wouldn't you rather be reading blogs, i.e. this one? Isn't there more satisfaction visiting your favorite game, news, sports, and ahem ... porn sites?
....Always at the forefront of public service, I have a solution for the headaches of obtaining that perfect card for whatever occasion you feel necessitates one.

What if you could buy just one card for the whole year? That's right, you can get by with just one card for every occasion of a given calendar year!

Introducing: The Everything Card


Now to spread some of that olio:

You gotta love Calvin, that snowman builder supreme:

The Ice Cream Industry's dirty little secret.

Do you know where and for whom your teenage son is shoveling?


The reason Frosty the Snowman had no children.

Little known fact: St. Nick's last job was as a plumber.

Moses learned his "parting" skills in Siberia.

And finally, do you recall the most famous reindeer of all?



No.838

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

New Santa On the Block

Be afraid! Be very afraid!
There's a new Santa on the block and he's comin' to town!

Santa's son has hit the road in this sequel to the previous post,The Anti-Claus.

Chapter 5: Deck the Halls With Pumpkins

Klaus Kringle knew what he had to do to achieve revenge. This Christmas was not going to be like those of the past. This year there would be two Santa's out there on Christmas Eve, each with a different agenda.
....While the jolly one in the red suit would be filling stockings for all the good boys and girls, the angry one, clad in black leather, would be cashing in his unused Halloween tricks. It would be a Boo-tiful Christmas this year.
....Conceived on Christmas, born on Halloween, Klaus had long harbored a deep hatred for the man known as Santa Claus. Not only only was the man a philanderer, but he was also a devious dead-beat dad. Through his website, Bastards-of-Claus.com, Klaus had learned that Santa had sired children all over the world. He was not alone. He was not unique.
....Al Gore's invention, the Internet, had given him untold power. The illegitimate offspring of Mr. Claus had united through the tag boards and chat rooms linked to Klaus' site. Thus, a master plan was launched. He had gained a legion of faithful disciples. The Christmas of '06 was going to be a memorable one, the year of the Anti-Claus.
....In cities all over the world, the Bastards of Claus would be celebrating Halloween in December. Instead of exchanging gifts, they would be tricking without the treating.

Chapter 6: Hark, the Harley Angels

After customizing his brand new 2006 Harley Super Glide to reflect his persona, Klaus roared out his driveway. His headlamp, filtered red, shown brightly from the "nose" of the hand-crafted Rudolph head mounted to the front of his bike. His gloved hands gripped the handlebars which resembled a deer's antlers.
....His white flowing beard was in stark contrast to the black stud-spiked leather jacket. Clinched in his teeth was a large cigar, the smoke whirling about the spike atop his black Kaiser helmet. This was no jolly old elf. This was not your father's Santa Claus!
....He pulled into the back of a luxury apartment building. This was where the rich people lived. Santa never missed the stockings of the rich kids. He knew this from the experiences of his youth. The rich-shit kids always got the best, most expensive gifts. Klaus had reasoned that the rich fathers had been greasing Santa's palm all along in exchange for the best gifts. The outrage there would have been had those fathers known that Santa had been shagging their wives too.
....He grabbed the over-sized sack that had been secured behind his seat. In the shadows of the night he climbed the fire escape stairs to the roof. Pausing for only a moment to savor his progress, he then began to remove his presents. He grinned as he thought of his minions all over the world exercising their own plans of Christmas treating.

Chapter 7: One Bad Santa Spoils the Whole Bunch

The trap had been set and Klaus lay low waiting for a certain big red rat to come along and take the bait. He gloated that after this night, Santa Claus would be wishing that he had kept his jingle bells in his pants all those years. After this night, Santa would never come again. He giggled cheerfully at his clever little pun.
....He didn't have long to wait. From the northern sky he could hear the jingle of approaching sleigh bells. He watched in nervous anticipation as the eight reindeer and the sleigh laden with one Santa Claus himself touched down upon the roof of the apartment building. The runners had landed on the fresh grease that Klaus had spread all over the roof. He smiled sheepishly as the sleigh and its team suddenly slid out of control and crashed into the wall of the elevator housing shed. He clenched his raised fist in a victory salute as Santa and his deer made contact with the electrified fencing he had wrapped around the structure.
....Klaus emerged from his place of hiding and made his way to the scene of the crash. He had set up his fence with just enough juice to shock Santa and his deer unconscious. He had no desire to seriously injure or maim his victims. He just wanted them incapacitated long enough for him to bring his plans to fruition.
....He worked quickly, removing the toys and presents from Santa's sack and sleigh. He then refilled the sack with bags of jewelry, silverware and expensive electronic equipment. Klaus had been stealing all that stuff from all over the city for the last several months just for this moment.
....What would people think of Santa Claus if he were to be caught with a sleigh full of contraband? That would be answered soon enough he thought. After hiding the original contents of Santa's bag, Klaus returned to his Harley in the back of the building. Rearing his bike like a stallion, he roared away from the premises on the rear wheel.
....Finally, far from detection, he used a stolen cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. Identifying himself as a concerned citizen, he reported suspicious activity on the roof of the apartment complex. His revenge would be almost complete when the police arrived to investigate.
....The law enforcement crew would find a crazy old man claiming to be Santa Claus. They would also find all those stolen goods in his sack. Only when they were leading him away in handcuffs, would he feel that justice had been served.

Chapter 8: One Lump of Coal or Two?

"Klaus," said a voice behind him. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
....His heart skipped a beat as he whirled around to face the source of the voice. "Who's there?" he demanded.
...."Your father, Klaus. I'm your father," answered the figure as he stepped forward.
...."Father?" Klaus said and added in defiance, "You're not my father. That asshole over there on that rooftop is my father." He pointed at the building a few blocks away.
...."No, that man is Santa Claus," the man countered. "I'm the only father you have."
....Klaus was about to speak, but the man raised his hand. "Hear me out, son. I know all about that night when you were only six years old. Your mother and I knew that you had seen us."
...."What?" Klaus protested. "You ... you were there? You perverted bastard, you were watching them?"
...."No, Klaus. You saw your mother and me making love that night."
...."But ... but I saw him .. the red suit .. the beard .. he was kissing .. touching her..." he stammered in confusion.
....The man shook his head, "I came home from an office party that night, Klaus. I rented a Santa Claus outfit to surprise you and your mother."
...."No. No," Klaus cried. "It can't be!"
...."Look son, it's not too late to make things right tonight. You can still save Christmas."
....Klaus' brain was in a state of flux. What if his father was telling the truth? What if Santa was innocent? What if he was just a jolly old elf? Suddenly nothing else mattered. He could ask his father why he had left them so long ago at another time.
....He scarcely noticed the passage of time as he hopped back on his bike, sped to the complex and climbed back onto that roof. His heart was heavy with guilt as he knelt over the unconscious man laying next to the overturned sleigh. Tears welled in his eyes as he tried to revive him. The deer were already beginning to stir. The old man moaned and opened his eyes slightly. Klaus stared into the confused but sincere eyes of a gentle man.
....In the distance and approaching fast, Klaus could hear the sirens. He didn't have much time. He had to get Santa up into his sleigh and let him fly away before the police arrived. He had to accept his punishment. He would turn himself in and confess to stealing all the stuff in that bag.

Kringle had moved to a better vantage point and watched as Santa and his sleigh were pulled airborne behind the flying reindeer. He watched in morbid silence as the cops closed in on the man dressed in black leather. He felt sorry for Klaus as he struggled with the lawmen. Yet, he admired his resolve for ultimately doing the right thing. There was some good in him after all.

Epilogue

He sat there staring straight ahead at the padded walls and door. The thoughts coursing through his brain were running the gamut from that of deep despair to a state of dumbfounded confusion. He had no desire for any more electric shock treatments. He wanted no part of their damned needles. He didn't need all of those anti-depressants and anti-psychotics they were force-feeding him.
....How had it come to this? How was it that he had failed? He had let a lot of people down, their faith seriously damaged. He knew that he was going to be there for a long time. He would just have to bide his time and maintain good behavior. One day he would be re-evaluated and he was determined that they would deem him cured.
....He had been barely conscious when that sick man in black had changed clothing with him. Why did that disturbed person keep calling him father? He'd watched helplessly as the man hopped into his sleigh and soared away with his team of reindeer into the night sky.
....No one would believe him, not the police who had arrested him, or the psychiatrists who had evaluated him. They kept telling him that Santa Claus was a fictitious character created to perpetuate the capitalistic side of Christmas. They said he was suffering from delusions.
....The one who had called himself the Anti-Claus had stolen his life, his very existence. He could only wait for that day when they would release him.
....When that day was upon him, then and only then could he exact revenge.

No.837

Monday, December 18, 2006

A Redneck Night Before Christmas*

You might be saying (groan) - "Not another Redneck Christmas posting!" Miss Cellania put up a different version. They are both pretty good on their own merits.

A Redneck Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the shack,
Not a durn thing was a movin', from the front to the back.

The kids was in bed, ...we had nine at the time,
The wife in her curlers, was lookin' real fine.

A cold wind was blowin', up the holler moaned,
All ten dogs on the porch howled and groaned.

The boys were all dreamin' of dogs and guns,
For huntin' 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 just wanted my pickup down off the blocks.

Then out in the yard, such a noise did commence,
Like something was caught in our new 'bobwar' fence.

I ran to the window, and saw pretty quick,
The man makin' that 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, from up near Mt. Gaylor,
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 razorback pigs!

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

He looked at the milk and cookies on the coffee table
He cursed and muttered, "What, no Carlings Black Label?"

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 "Lite Beer",
He had no red hat on, but his cap read "John Deere".

He left all the presents, with an air of delight,
Then it was back to the chimney, and away in the night.

He fell in the yard, threw his bag in the sleigh,
Then he yelled at the dogs, "Get the heck out th' way!"

I ran out to ask him why he brought such good cheer;
But instead he just asked me, "Did you get you a deer?"

Then I heard him exclaim, as those pigs took to flight,
"Merry Christmas to all..... an to all, a good night!"

*This was "borrowed" from that most prolific of authors, Anonymous. (Although I did add the lines with coffee table and Carlings Black Label.)

No.835

Sunday, December 17, 2006

A Tree Grows In The Den

It's beginning to feel like Christmas.

Last weekend I put up the outside lights to a rousing parody rendition of Tangled Lights sung to the tune of Jingle Bells.
....This weekend, I planted a tree in the den. More succinctly and sans the metaphor, I put up the Christmas tree.
....I will not pretend that it was a laborious task. Indeed, it takes longer to take the tree out of the box than it takes to actually set it up and decorate it. You see, it's a seven-foot fiber-optic tree. I just mount it on the base, plug it in and flip a switch. Voila! It's a light show nonpareil.
....Although it isn't necessary, we do drape some white strings of beads, hang some plastic icicles, and finish the trimming with two or three boxes of candy canes on the branches.

I can now sit back in my Lazy Boy, mesmerized by the ever-changing lighted branches. It is only then that I can even begin to think about the next phase of the Christmas experience - the shopping. I have only nine days to divvy up those days between thinking about shopping and actually shopping.

Meanwhile, the indoor decorating wasn't finished. The plastic candle lights and candelabras have to be put in the windows.The Christmas cards we've received so far, including yours Jules, have to be displayed.

I think I just might have found the perfect place to hang the mistletoe! Merry Christmas! Ho! Ho!

The only thing missing thus far is the snow. We had a slight dusting about two weeks ago, but it was gone without a trace two hours later. So far the month of December has had temperatures in the 40s and 50s.

Last year at this time, a look out of our windows revealed a scene similar, but not as rustic, to that in the picture at the right. Alas, by Christmas it had melted. Although I live only seven miles north of Boston, I cannot remember the last time we've had a white Christmas.

....Perchance I am preoccupied pondering the ponderous prospects of procuring presents, perhaps one precocious person can pontificate or propose precisely why people present a partridge in a pear tree as a present. (Excuse the alliteration.)
I was just wondering... a Danny Partridge in a pear tree? No, thanks.

I wonder what am I going tell Sandy Claus what to bring me this year when I'm sitting on her lap, or vice versa?

Yes, now that the decorating is completed, I have a lot to think about over the next nine days. Hopefully, I won't spend too much time on the thinking part and save some for the shopping. (Well, as soon as Sandy Claus breaks free of my grip and gets off my lap!) It's hard to let go of traditions.

No.834

Saturday, December 16, 2006

The Snowman With Snowballs









Frothy The Snowman
(sung to the tune of Frosty the Snowman)


Frothy the snowman
was an angry yellow chap
With a used stogie and a dildo nose,
and two eyes from bottle caps.
Frothy the snowman
was cold and ev'ry one recalls
He was made of snow but the people
know how he had a set of balls.

There must have been some magic in the
dogs piss that was sprayed
For when they pissed upon his body
he cussed and had a mean tirade.
O
Frothy the snowman
was alive as he could be
And the town folk say he could cuss
and beat the crap out of you and me.

Thumpetty thump thump
thumpety ouch ouch
Watch Frothy's balls go
Thumpetty thump thump
thumpety ouch ouch
Over the hills of snow

Frothy the snowman knew the sun was hot that day
So he said "I'll shoot those dogs just for fun
now before I melt away."
Down to the village
with a shotgun in his grasp
Shooting here and there all
around the square cussing
"I'll shoot you in the ass."

He chased them down the streets of town
right to the liquor store
And he only paused a moment just
To have himself a snort.

For Frothy the snowman
Wanted those dogs spayed,
But he flipped them goodbye saying
"Don't you growl
I'll be back again some day."

Thumpetty thump thump
thumpety ouch ouch
Look at Frothy go
Thumpetty thump thump
thumpety ouch ouch
On his balls of snow.

No.833

Friday, December 15, 2006

A Lawyer's Night Before Christmas*


A Lawyer's version of It Was A Night Before Christmas ...

Whereas, on or about the night prior to Christmas, there did occur at a certain improved piece of real property (hereinafter "the House") a general lack of stirring by all creatures therein, including, but not limited to a mouse.

A variety of foot apparel, e.g., stocking, socks, etc., had been affixed by and around the chimney in said House in the hope and/or belief that St. Nick a/k/a/ St. Nicholas a/k/a/ Santa Claus (hereinafter "Claus") would arrive at sometime thereafter. The minor residents, i.e. the children, of the aforementioned House were located in their individual beds and were engaged in nocturnal hallucinations, i.e. dreams, wherein vision of confectionery treats, including, but not limited to, candies, nuts and/or sugar plums, did dance, cavort and otherwise appear in said dreams.

Whereupon the party of the first part (sometimes hereinafter referred to as ("I"), being the joint-owner in fee simple of the House with the party of the second part (hereinafter "Mamma"), and said Mamma had retired for a sustained period of sleep. (At such time, the parties were clad in various forms of headgear, e.g., kerchief and cap.

Suddenly, and without prior notice or warning, there did occur upon the unimproved real property adjacent and appurtenant to said House, i.e., the lawn, a certain disruption of unknown nature, cause and/or circumstance. The party of the first part did immediately rush to a window in the House to investigate the cause of such disturbance.
At that time, the party of the first part did observe, with some degree of wonder and/or disbelief, a miniature sleigh (hereinafter "the Vehicle") being pulled and/or drawn very rapidly through the air by approximately eight (8) reindeer. The driver of the Vehicle appeared to be and in fact was, the previously referenced Claus.

Said Claus was providing specific direction, instruction and guidance to the approximately eight (8) reindeer and specifically identified the animal co-conspirators by name: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen (hereinafter "the Deer"). (Upon information and belief, it is further asserted that an additional co-conspirator named "Rudolph" may have been involved.)

The party of the first part witnessed Claus, the Vehicle and the Deer intentionally and willfully trespass upon the roofs of several residences located adjacent to and in the vicinity of the House, and noted that the Vehicle was heavily laden with packages, toys and other items of unknown origin or nature. Suddenly, without prior invitation or permission, either express or implied, the Vehicle arrived at the House, and Claus entered said House via the chimney.

Said Claus was clad in a red fur suit, which was partially covered with residue from the chimney, and he carried a large sack containing a portion of the aforementioned packages, toys, and other unknown items. He was smoking what appeared to be tobacco in a small pipe in blatant violation of local ordinances and health regulations.

Claus did not speak, but immediately began to fill the stocking of the minor children, which hung adjacent to the chimney, with toys and other small gifts. (Said items did not, however, constitute "gifts" to said minor pursuant to the applicable provisions of the U.S. Tax Code.)

Upon completion of such task, Claus touched the side of his nose and flew, rose and/or ascended up the chimney of the House to the roof where the Vehicle and Deer waited and/or served as "lookouts." Claus immediately departed for an unknown destination.

However, prior to the departure of the Vehicle, Deer and Claus from said House, the party of the first part did hear Claus state and/or exclaim: "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!" Or words to that effect.

* (Another goodie borrowed from: Emmitsburg )

No.832

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Christmas Comforts

Hot chocolate, eggnog, Christmas cookies, fudge, pies and cakes ... Ah, there's nothing like comfort foods, especially those culinary delights that tickle your palate and terrify your bathroom scale.
....Eat, drink and be merry ... and diet after the holidays.
Why not start with this recipe for a scrumptious cake:

Tequila Christmas Cake

Ingredients:

2 cups flour
1 stick butter
1 cup of water
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup of sugar
1 tsp salt
1 cup of brown sugar
Lemon juice
4 large eggs
1 bottle tequila
2 cups of dried fruit and nuts

Sample the tequila to check quality. Take a large bowl, check the tequila again. To be sure it is of the highest quality, pour one level cup and drink. Repeat. Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add one teaspoon of sugar. Beat again. At this point it's best to make sure the tequila is still OK. Try another cup... Just in case. Turn off the mixerer thingy. Break 2 eggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.

Pick the frigging fruit up off floor. Mix on the turner. If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers just pry it loose with a drewscriver. Sample the tequila to check for tonsisticity. Next, sift two cups of salt. Or something. Check the tequila. Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts. Add one table. Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find. Greash the oven. Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over. Don't forget to beat off the turner. Finally, throw the bowl through the window. Finish the tequila and wipe counter with the cat.

Bingle Jells! Bingle Jells!

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You are sitting by a warm crackling fire and you realize you forgot the chestnuts! No worry, just grab some marshmallows. Uh oh, you're out of marshmallows. That's okay, don't fret. After all, you're still (1)a little tipsy, (2)drunk, (3) legless, or (4) passed out after making that Tequila Christmas Cake.
....You still want to roast something over the fire ... then the Absolut starts to kick in and you think ... why not try some frozen Tater Tots?


(I wondered when and how I was going to use the cartoon at the right. Where else, but on a post featuring comfort foods? This toon cracked me up, and I wanted to share it with you folks out there.)

Shay! Thish here Absolut Blogger stuff shure does make it eashy to ramble! Thish posting ish gonna be a classic, coz I'm on a roll now. (Hic!)....Oh, wow!! I shtill have shum Tequila left! What ya shay, I bake another one of those cakes?!
....Hmm ... When did they shtart putting Gummy Worms in the shequila? Mmmm ... Shure is chewy! Shorta tastes like chicken...


Well shun of a gun ... no more tequila! No prob-lemo, let me check the clicker labinet. Mush be some bozzle of boots I can use ...
....Shambooger? Cutey Shark? Gallion, er Galileo? Whash that way in the back? Ah, here we go ... Wild Turkey!! A whole quart ... I hope thash enough ...
....Ouch! Sheezus! ... How did I get under thish table?
....Aw, the hell with the cake ... grab a glash ...

No.831

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Rejected Wise Men

It is a little known fact that auditions were held for the position of Magi for that first Christmas. The competition for one of the three openings featured a veritable Who's Who of applicants.

One of the more colorful applicants was one Elvis Aron Presley. In the end, his generous gift offering of a gold record had not been enough to land him the job. Insiders said that they felt that Presley was only seeking publicity for the release of his latest album.
....With Col. Parker and the rest of his entourage in tow, he stormed out of the auditions. It was possibly the first known utterance of "Elvis has left the building." Shortly thereafter, the King signed a lucrative contract to perform a live gig in Las Vegas.

The selection of Gaspar, Melchior and Balthazar was not without controversy. Many felt that the selection process had been fixed. There were questions whether or not some of those who cast ballots were deceased or not. There were also residency issues. Then there was the matter of ballots with hanging chads.

One applicant in particular who paid close attention to the significance of those chads was George W. Bush. He had given as his reason for putting in for the job: "I always wanted to be king." He vowed to protect the Middle East in exchange for exclusivity on oil rights.
....He nearly stole that election by calling in some old favors. He had hired his good friend Hannibal to stage a grand old party by orchestrating a massive parade of elephants across the Alps. He was rejected, however, because of the Bush family's interests in both Persia and Mesopotamia.

Another who was rejected was the so-called King of Pop, Michael Jackson. He was summarily dismissed because of his proclivity to young boys. They didn't think it wise to let him anywhere near the Messiah.

Other rejects included:

--David Copperfield, who disqualified himself when he learned it wasn't a magic show for which he was applying.

--Dick Cheney, who insisted on carrying a loaded shotgun.

--Barbara Walters, who backed out because no one else spoke gibberish.

--Bill Clinton withdrew when he was informed that the mother of the child would be remaining a virgin, and that she was allergic to cigars.

--Bill Gates, who had introduced Windows 1.0., the BC Edition, and who'd promised an AD version as soon as the bugs were out of the first one.

--Donald Trump who just wanted his foot in the door for the opportunity to build a high rise that would rival Nebuchadnezzar's Hanging Gardens of Babylon.

--Carl Sagan, whose only interest was of the phenomenon of a rogue star in the sky with billions upon billions of other stars.

--Mick Jagger, who was looking for a another site to put on a concert during their 850th tour.

--Michael Richards, who once again used poor judgement and showed up with a gift of ham.

As you can see there were politics even way back then. Who knew?

No.830

The Twelve Crimes of Christmas

A few days ago I published this post titled "The 12 Daze of Christmas" about the absurdity of the gifts from the song The Twelve Days of Christmas.
....It doesn't take much web-surfing out there to find several versions of parodies of that song. That wasn't what I was looking for, however. I was looking for Christmas jokes.
....What I found at Emmitsburg ties in perfectly with my post linked above. You may want to read that post before continuing if you haven't done so already.
....What follows is one funny aftermath of a young woman receiving those twelve gifts from her "true love."

The Twelve Days of Christmas

Day One: Dearest Bob, I went to the door today and the postman delivered a partridge in a peartree. What a thoroughly delightful gift. I couldn't have been more surprised. With deepest love and affection, Violet

Day Two: Dearest Bob, Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine? Two turtle doves!! I'm delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just too adorable. My everlasting love, Violet

Day Three: My Dear Bob, Oh! Aren't you the extravagant one! Now I actually must protest. I don't deserve such generosity-three French hens! They are just darling, but I must insist-you've been too, too kind. All my love, Violet

Day Four: Dear Bob, Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really they ARE beautiful. But don't you think enough is enough? You are just being too romantic. Love, Violet

Day Five: Dear Bob, What a marvelous surprise! Today the postman delivered five gold rings. One for every finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. To tell you the truth, all these birds really squawk a lot and are getting on my nerves. Affectionately, Violet

Day Six: Bob, Today the postman knocked and ran. When I opened the door there were actually six geese-a-laying on my front steps. So, you're back on the birds again. Those geese are huge! Where in the name of creation will I keep them? The neighbors are complaining, rightfully so, and it is impossible to sleep through this racket. Now let this be the end of this. Cordially, Violet

Day Seven: Bob, What the hell's with you and these damn birds?!? Seven swans-a-swimming? What kind of damn joke is this? There's bird crap all over the house and they never stop with the racket. Stop with this sadistic nonsense. This is not funny and I am very unhappy. Sincerely, Violet

Day Eight: OK Pal ! ! WHAT IN THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO WITH EIGHT MAIDS-A-MILKING? I THINK I PREFER THE DAMN BIRDS! THE IDIOT MAIDS-A-MILKING HAD TO BRING THEIR STUPID COWS. THERE IS COW POOP ALL OVER MY LAWN AND BIRD POOP ALL OVER THE HOUSE. I CANNOT MOVE MY FEET. JUST LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE, SMART ASS.

Day Nine: LISTEN DIRT BAG! YOU'RE A SADISTIC BASTARD! NOW I HAVE NINE PIPERS PIPING IN MY FRONT YARD AND THEY ARE STANDING KNEE DEEP IN COW POOP. THIS AFTER CHASING THOSE MAIDS ALL NIGHT LONG. CONSEQUENTLY, UPSETTING THE COWS TO THE POINT THAT THEY ARE STEPPING ALL OVER THOSE DAMN SCREECHING BIRDS. THE NEIGHBORS HAVE STARTED A PETITION TO EVICT ME. UP YOURS !!!

Day Ten: YOU ROTTEN JERK! NOW THERE'S TEN LADIES DANCING. NOW THE STUPID COWS CAN'T SLEEP AND THEY'VE GOT DIARRHEA! THE COMMISSIONER OF ZONING AND THE BUILDING INSPECTOR HAVE SUBPOENAED ME TO GIVE JUST CAUSE WHY MY HOME SHOULDN'T BE CONDEMNED. I'M CALLING THE POLICE !! I MEAN IT!

DAY ELEVEN: LISTEN SLIME BALL! NEVER IN MY WILDEST IMAGINATION DID I EVER THINK THAT I WOULD BE WITNESS TO ELEVEN LORDS-A-LEAPING BEING BASHED BY NINE PIPERS WITH THEIR PIPES FOR TEN MILKING MAIDS!!! BY THE WAY. THE 60 MINUTES CAMERA CREW AND STAFF ARE JUST NOW LOADING UP THEIR CAMERA AND EQUIPMENT ON A CHARTERED PLANE AND ARE RACING AGAINST TIME TO HAVE THE FIRST CHRISTMAS SPECIAL ON PAY TV. FOR THE RECORD, ALL 23 OF THOSE DAMN BIRDS ARE DEAD. THEY WERE TRAMPLED TO DEATH IN THE BATTLE. AS GOD IS MY WITNESS, SOMEHOW, SOME DAY, I'LL GET YOU !!!! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN AS LONG AS I LIVE! MISS VIOLET MONICA HABERSHAN

DAY TWELVE: LAW OFFICES GOLDSTEIN, SILVERBERG AND O'REILLY Dear Sir: This is to acknowledge receipt of your latest gift of twelve drummers drumming, which you have seen fit to inflict upon our client, Miss Violet Monica Habershan. The destruction, of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Miss Habershan at the Charter Glade Sanitarium, the attendants have been instructed to shoot you on sight! With this letter, please find attached a warrant for your arrest.

No.829

Monday, December 11, 2006

Let There Be Lights





Oh, the tangled web we weave...
we that weave tangled Christmas lights.

Until Sunday, my house was the last bastion of unadorned houses on the street. It was I who would be the last combatant to face the Light Brigade. There were lights on the houses to the right of me, lights to the left of me, and lights across the street, and into the cold afternoon I strode.

The strings of lights, 600 bulbs strong, fought valiantly. The enemy's strategy was brilliant, having amassed themselves into such tight formations that one end could not be distinguished from the other. The battlefield that was my front yard was soon strewn with the dead, mortally wounded strings that would never fight again. Yet, amid the carnage, they fought to the last string.

I mused that we Homo sapiens should be counting our lucky stars that the arachnids never learned to spin their webs with strings of Christmas lights. If instead of barbed wire the cattlemen of the Old West had used bales of Christmas lights, the rustlers would have been out of business from the beginning.

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.

~(chorus:)~
Tangled lights, tangled lights,
Tangled all the way,
Oh how I'd like to find
One working set to display.
O,Tangled lights, tangled lights,
Tangled all the 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 pot.

~(chorus:)~
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!

~(chorus:)~

No.827