Holiday Humor...continued




I'm Innocent Because...

It is Christmas eve. A burglar breaks into the home of a prominent
local lawyer. He takes the lawyer's Christmas gifts from under the
tree leaving the packages for the wife and children alone. As he
is leaving the house, he is apprehended by a policeman.

He confesses to what he has done but tells the policeman that he
can't be arrested.

The policeman asks why, and he responds, "Because the law states
that I'm entitled to the presents of an attorney."





Thanksgiving in Phoenix

A man in Phoenix calls his son in New York a couple of days before Thanksgiving and says, "I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is enough."

"Pop, what are you talking about?" the son screams.

"We can't stand the sight of each other any longer," the father says. "We're sick of each other, and I'm sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Chicago and tell her."

Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone. "No way they're getting divorced!" she shouts, "I'll take care of this." She calls Phoenix immediately and screams at her father, "You are not getting divorced. Don't do a single thing until I get there. I'm calling my brother back, and we'll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don't do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?" and hangs up.

The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. "Okay," he says, "they're coming for Thanksgiving and paying their own way."





An Arkansas Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
not a darn thing was movin', and no one was soused.

The kids were 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 it moaned,
all ten dogs on the porch howled and groaned.

The boys were all dreamin' of fishin' and guns,
Ya see, sports like them, why, 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 Chevy down off the blocks.

Then out in the yard, such a noise did commence,
like something was caught in our barb wire fence.

I ran like the wind! And I 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 red and white suit, but I've got a suprise.

That old boy's an Arkie, from up near Mt. Gaylor,
he married his cousin, and they live in a trailer.

On Christmas he has a nice sleigh for his rig,
and he hooks the thing up to six 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 that he looked a bit 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 '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 into the night.

He ran into the yard, threw his bag in the sleigh,
then he yelled at the dogs, "Get the he** out the way!"

I ran out to ask him why he brought such good cheer,
but instead I just asked him did he bring me some beer?

Then I heard him exclaim, as those pigs took to flight,
"Merry Christmas to all....now I need a bud lite.





A Politically Correct Christmas Carol

Deck the halls with boughs of non-endangered plant species
Fa la la la la, la la la la
'Tis the season to be self-actualizing,
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Don we now our alternate-lifestyle apparel
Fa la la la la, la la la la
Toll the ancient non-denominational-winter-solstice-holiday carol
Fa la la la la, la la la la

See the blazing log of non-denominational-winter-solstice-holiday-
non-endangered wood before us,
Play the harp without unnecessary brutality and join the chorus
Sing we emotionally stable in a collective group effort,
Heedless of the weather patterns despite the effects of global
warming,

Fast away the chronologically challenged year passes
Hail the new year without any implicit ageism, ye persons
Dance in a non-hierarchical manner in merry measure,
While I tell of non-materialistic, non-denominational-winter-
solstice-holiday treasure,
Fa la la la la, la la LA LA


The Night Before Thanksgiving

'Twas the night before Thanksgiving and in my sleep.
Strange dreams in my mind, began to creep

Thanksgiving leftovers beckoned -- The dark meat and white,
But I fought the temptation with all of my might.

Tossing and turning with anticipation......
The thought of a snack became infatuation.....

So to the kitchen I did race, Flung open the door,
And gazed at the fridge full of goodies galore.

I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes,
Pickles and carrots, beans and tomatoes.

I felt myself swelling so plump and so round,
Till all of a sudden, I rose off the ground!

I crashed through the ceiling. Floating into the sky....
With a mouthful of pudding and a handful of pie,
But I managed to yell as I soared past the trees.

HAPPY EATING TO ALL!
PASS THE CRANBERRIES PLEASE!


Christmas Signs

At a Toy store: "Ho, ho, ho spoken here."

At a Bridal boutique: "Marry Christmas."

Outside a church: " The original Christmas club."

At a department store" "Big pre-Christmas sale. Come in and
mangle with the crow."

At a reducing salon: "24 shaping days until Christmas."

At a ski resort: "All I need to know about life I learned from a
snow man."

In a stationery store: "For the one who has everything, a calender
to show when the payments are due."





A Winter Wonderland

Driver's swear, are you listenin',
At the mall, folks are bitchin',
A miserable sight, they're sorry tonight,
Drivin' in California's TrafficLand!

Gone away are your tires,
Meter has just expired,
They towed you away, while you shopped today,
Parkin' in California's TrafficLand!

On the Parkway we will have a breakdown,
We'll be stuck and threathened on the side,
If we're lucky, muggers might come mug us,
And if we plead they may give us a ride!

Santa's sleigh was impounded,
All the Elves were surrounded,
He's now in a cell, for ringin' his bell,
Living in California's TrafficLand!


POLITICALLY CORRECT TWELVE DAYS OF C*****MAS

On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my
potential acquaintance rape survivor gave to me,

TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming.

ELEVEN pipers piping
(plus the 18 member pit orchestra made up of members in good standing of
the Musicians Equity Union as called for in their union contract even though
they will not be asked to play a note...)

TEN melanin deprived testosterone poisoned scions of the patriarchal ruling
class system leaping,

NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self expression,

EIGHT economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk products from
enslaved Bovine Americans,

SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally protected wetlands,

SIX enslaved fowl Americans producing stolen nonhuman animal products,

FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration,

(NOTE: after a member of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to
throw red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and
partridge have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid
further animal American enslavement, the remaining gift package has
been revised.)

FOUR hours of recorded whale songs,

THREE deconstructionist poets,

TWO Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses

and a Spotted Owl activist chained to an old growth pear tree.





Christmas Lights

I have decided not to put up Christmas lights on my house this year...I'm getting tired of wasting my Easter Sunday taking them down.








Walkin in my Winter Underwear
(sung to the tune "Winter Wonderland")

Sleigh bells ring and I'm listening,
But I'm turning and twisting.
'Cause I'm itching up here,
And I'm scratching down there,
I'm walking in my winter underwear.

Now, the front is all battered,
And the back is all tattered,
But, when I'm cold to the core,
I walk through the "trap door",
And up into my winter underwear.

Vell, I don't care if it rains or snows or freezes.
I yam so warm I yust don't give a hoot.
I put on all the stockings I can locate,
And I wear two pair of trousers with my suit.

But then I start to perspire
And then it sets me on fire.
'Cause I'm itching up here,
And I'm scratching down there,
I'm walking in my winter underwear.

Vinter snow is white and glistening,
But I'm turning and twisting.
I gotta scratch a little here,
I gotta scratch a little there.
I'm walking in my winter underwear.

I put my bathing suit away in moth balls,
And now I've got to adapt to snow balls.
Then I can't scratch my back;
I throw myself all aback.
I'm walking in my winter underwear.

Through rain and snow and ice I do not worry.
The winter come, I yust don't give a hoot.
My coat and hat and earmuffs keep my cozy
And I wear two pair of trousers with my suit.

But then to cope to other clothing,
Vell, the thing that I am loading,
Is when my face turn blue,
And contortions I go through,
Walking in my winter underwear.

They're from Sears-Rooobuuuck....
Walking in my winter underwear!
(Author Unknown)