Fun on the weekly web and other chuckles
Volume 6 Issue 33 December 23, 2007
Ho ho ho . . . well I finally caught up with myself. I see that
somehow I have just missed this totally for some time
so now I combined the November one I started with the
December one I had also started. Where any references
to upcoming holidays appear they are no longer coming
they are here.
I am visiting with the kids and finally caught up with
sleep. I spent most of December sicker than a dog with
some horrid virus which I got rid of just in time to
travel.
Travel is a whole other story which I will save for next
time. I am going to try a wrap up issue for New Years
but we'll have to see how my time works out here.
Thanks to Erin for this web site where you can pick out a
thank you card and Xerox will print it and it will be sent
to a soldier that is currently serving in Iraq .. You can't
pick out who gets it, but it will go to some member of the
armed services. Please send a card. It is FREE and it only
takes a second.
http://www.letssaythanks.com/
Google just being fun again
http://www.lifehacker.com/software/fun/search-google-earth-for-giant-toys-221972.php
Thanks to Mike for this Santa jigsaw
http://www.jacquielawson.com/viewcard.asp?code=ER13610552
Other fabulous cards by Jacquie Lawson
12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS
http://www.jacquielawson.com/viewcard.asp?code=HY27482779
PEAR TREE COTTAGE (CHUDLEIGH)
http://www.j-baertschi.ch/lawson/xmas2000.swf
VILLAGE GREEN
http://www.j-baertschi.ch/lawson/xmas2001.swf
DANCING PIPER
http://www.jacquielawson.com/viewcard.asp?code=ZF33182754
SNOW DOG
http://www.jacquielawson.com/viewcard.asp?cont=1&hdr=0&pv=XS01EN
Want to see where Santa is by radar?
http://www.noradsanta.org/index.php
How to create Quick-Open Wrapping (Rip Cord)
http://www.instructables.com/id/E8I8YKA38QEVYDU27D/?ALLSTEPS
Check out the seasonal tacky stuff here
http://www.worldofkitsch.com/features/kitschmas2003/index.html
Among the many really yummy recipes here are these
darling snow topped cupcakes for anytime in winter or
actually anytime at all will do.
http://www.101cookbooks.com/archives/000132.html
Green and Crafty ideas for you
http://dannyseo.typepad.com/my_weblog/
Another great crafty site
http://www.getcrafty.com/
"House Gymnastics originated . . . in a joint and convoluted
attempt to put up a bedroom blind. It could be argued that
boredom was the real catalyst for House Gymnastics . . ."
Step by Step instructions included
http://www.housegymnastics.com/
How to get rid of junk mail
http://www.wikihow.com/Get-Rid-of-Junk-Mail
Harry Potter fans check out this site
http://www.jkrowling.com/
Is it time to start saving some money and calories by packing a lunch?
http://www.cleverdude.com/content/frugal-lunch-by-clever-dudette/
For more ideas see 52 Projects here:
http://www.52projects.com/52_projects/2007/09/tips-for-bringi.html
Winter is upon us since they are forecasting snow
for next week so we may need this sooner than later
http://imakeprojects.com/content/view/41/32/
Speaking of that can the holidays be far behind?
http://makezine.com/blog/archives.html
Free Christmas Games
http://www.miniclip.com/games/en/christmas.php
http://www.merry-christmas.com/games/index.htm
Dress up the Christmas elves
http://akidsheart.com/holidays/christms/dresself.htm
Here's a match Christmas game.
http://www.akidsheart.com/ws/stocking.htm
Decorate the tree:
http://www.castlearcana.com/christmas/tree/
Cute Christmas Fun
http://badaboo.free.fr/merryxmas.swf
Maxine's Night Before Christmas!
http://wsww.humorhaus.com/hh1189.htm
North Pole Zodiac
http://www.merry-christmas.com/games/north.pole.zodiac/north_pole_zodiac.htm
Might as well take advantage of these tax dollars at work
http://origins.firstgov.gov/Citizen/Topics/Winter.shtml
Collection of free audiobooks, articles and podcasts
http://www.learnoutloud.com/Free-Audio-Video#directory
A little late to try this year but sounds like a fabulous twist on a turkey
http://www.jamieoliver.com/recipes/2007/12/05/the_best_roast_turkey_christmas_or_any_t
Get out the tissues for this or scroll down to
"On to the chuckles:"
The Last Straw
It was another long, winter afternoon with everyone stuck
in the house and the four McDonald children were at it
again; bickering, teasing, fighting over their toys. At
times like these, mother was almost ready to believe that
her children didn’t love each other, though she knew that
wasn’t really true. All brothers and sisters fight, of
course, but lately her little lively bunch had been
particularly horrible to each other, especially Eric and
Kelly, who were just a year apart. They seemed determined
to spend the whole winter making each other miserable.
“Gimme that. It’s mine!”
“Is not, fatso! I had it first!”
Mother sighed as she listened to the latest argument
coming from the living room. With Christmas only a
month away, the McDonald house seemed sadly lacking
in Christmas spirit. This was supposed to be the season
of sharing and love, of warm feelings and happy hearts.
A home needed more than just pretty packages or twinkling
lights on the tree to fill it with the Christmas spirit.
But how could any mother convince her children that being
kind to each other was the most important way to get
ready for Christmas?
Mother had only one idea. Years ago her grandmother had
told her about an old Christmas custom that helped people
discover the real meaning of Christmas. Perhaps it would
work for her family. It was worth a try. Mother gathered
her four little rascals together and sat them down on the
stairs, smallest to tallest: Mike, Randi, Kelly and Eric.
“How would you kids like to start a new Christmas project
this year”? she asked. “It’s like a game, but it can only
be played by people who can keep a secret. Can everyone
here do that”?
“I can!” shouted Eric, wildly waving his arm in the air.
“I can keep a secret better than he can,” yelled Kelly,
jumping up and waving her arm in the air, too. If this
was a contest, she wanted to make sure she beat Eric.
“I can do it!” chimed in Randi, not quite sure what was
happening, but not wanting to be left out.
“Me too, me too, me too,” squealed little Mike, bouncing
up and down.
“Well then, here’s how the game works,” mother explained.
“This year, we’re going to surprise Baby Jesus when he
comes on Christmas Eve by making him the softest bed in
the world. We’re going to build a little crib for him to
sleep in right here in our house, and we’ll fill it with
straw to make it comfortable. But here’s the catch: Each
piece of straw we put in the manger will represent one
kind thing we do for someone between now and Christmas.
The more kind things we do, the more straw there will be
for Baby Jesus. The secret part is we can’t tell anyone
what good things we’re doing and who we’re doing them for.”
The children looked confused.
“How will Baby Jesus know it’s his bed”? asked Kelly.
“He’ll know,” said mother. “He’ll recognize it by the
love we’ve put into the crib, by how soft it is.”
"But who will we do the kind things for”? asked Eric.
“It’s simple,” said mother. “We’ll do them for each other.
Once every week between now and Christmas, we’ll put all
of our names in this hat, mine and daddy’s too. Then
we’ll each draw a name and do kind things for that person
for a whole week. But here’s the hard part. We can’t tell
anyone whose name we’ve drawn for that week, and we’ll
each try to do as many favors as we can for our special
person without getting caught. And for every secret good
thing we do, we’ll put another piece of straw in the crib.”
“But what if I pick someone I don’t like”? frowned Kelly.
Mother thought about that for a minute.
"Maybe you could use extra fat straws for the good things
you do for that person, because they might be harder to
do. But just think how much faster the fat straws will
fill up our crib. Then on Christmas Eve, we’ll put Baby
Jesus in his little bed, and he’ll sleep that night on a
mattress made of love. I think he’d like that, don’t you”?
“Now, who will build the crib for us”? she asked.
Since Eric was the oldest, and the only one of the
children allowed to use tools, he marched off to the
basement to give it a try. For the next couple of hours,
loud banging and sawing noises came from the basement.
Then for a long time, there were no noises at all.
Finally, Eric climbed back up the stairs with the manger
in his arms.
“Here it is,” he grinned. “The best crib in the world!
And I did it all myself.”
For once, everyone agreed. The little manger was the
best crib in the world. One leg was an inch too short,
of course, and the crib rocked a bit, but it had been
built with love, and about a hundred bent nails, and
it would certainly last a long time.
“Now we need some straw,” said mother, and together
they headed out to the car to go searching for some in
the nearby fields. Surprisingly, no one fought over who
was going to sit in the front seat that day as they
drove around the countryside, looking for an empty
field. At last, they spotted a small vacant patch of
land that had been covered with tall grass in summer.
Now, in mid-December, the grass had dried down to
yellow stalks that looked just like real straw.
Mother stopped the car and the kids scrambled out
to pick handfuls of the long grass.
“That’s enough!” mother finally laughed, when she
saw that the cardboard box in the trunk was almost
overflowing. “Remember, it’s only a small crib.” So
home they went, where they spread the straw carefully
on a tray mother had put on the kitchen table. The
empty manger was placed gently on top, and the straw
hid its one short leg.
“When can we pick names!” shouted the children.
“As soon as daddy comes home for dinner,” mother answered.
At the supper table that night, the six names were
written on separate pieces of paper, folded up and
shuffled around in an old baseball hat. Then the
drawing began.
Kelly picked first and immediately started to giggle.
Randi reached into the hat next. Daddy glanced at his
scrap of paper and smiled quietly behind his hand.
Mother picked out a name, but her face never gave away
a clue. Next, little Mike reached into the hat, but
since he couldn’t read yet, daddy had to whisper in his
ear and tell him which name he had picked. Eric was the
last to choose, and as he unfolded his piece of paper,
a frown crossed his face. But he stuffed the name in
his pocket and said nothing. The family was ready to
begin.
The week that followed was filled with surprises. It
seemed the McDonald house had suddenly been invaded by
an army of invisible elves, and good things were
happening everywhere. Kelly would walk into her room
at bedtime and find her little blue nightgown neatly
laid out and her bed turned down. Someone cleaned up
the sawdust under the workbench without being asked.
The jelly blobs disappeared magically from the kitchen
counter after lunch one day while Mother was getting
the mail. And every morning, while Eric was brushing
his teeth, someone crept quietly into his room and
made his bed. It wasn’t made perfectly, but it was made.
“Where are my shoes”? asked daddy one morning. No one
seemed to know, but before he left for work, they were
back in the closet, all shined up.
Mother noticed other changes during that week, too.
The children weren’t teasing or fighting as much. An
argument would start and then suddenly stop for no
good reason. Even Eric and Kelly seemed to be getting
along better. In fact, all the children wore secret
smiles and giggled to themselves at times.
By Sunday, everyone was anxious to pick new names
again, and this time there was even more laughter
and merriment during the picking process, except for
Eric. Once again he unfolded his paper, looked at
it and stuffed it in his pocket without a word.
Mother noticed, but said nothing.
The second week of the game brought more amazing
events. The garbage was taken out without anyone
being asked. Someone even did two of Kelly’s hard
math problems one night when she left her homework
out on the table.
The little pile of straw grew higher and softer.
With only two weeks left until Christmas, the
children wondered if their homemade bed would be
comfortable enough for Baby Jesus.
"Who will be Baby Jesus anyway”? Randi asked on
the third Sunday night after they had all picked
new names.
“Perhaps we can use one of the dolls,” said mother.
“Why don’t you and Mike be in charge of picking out
the right one”?
The two younger children ran off to gather up their
favorite dolls, but everyone else wanted to help
pick Baby Jesus, too. Little Mike dragged his Bozo
the Clown rag doll from his room and proudly handed
it over, sniffling later when everyone laughed. Soon
Eric’s well-hugged teddy bear, Bruffles, joined the
dolls filling up the couch. Barbie and Ken were there,
along with Kermit the Frog, stuffed dogs and lambs,
and even a cuddly monkey that grandma and grandpa
had sent Mike one year. But none of them seemed
quite right.
Only an old baby doll, who had been loved almost to
pieces, looked like a possibility for their Baby Jesus.
“Chatty Baby,” she had once been called, before she
stopped chatting forever after too many baths.
“She looks so funny now,” said Randi, and it was true.
Once while playing beauty shop, Kelly had cut her own
blonde hair along with Chatty Baby’s, giving them both
a raggedy crew cut. Kelly’s hair had eventually grown
back, but Chatty Baby’s never had. Now the wisps of
blonde hair that stuck out all over the doll's head
made her look a little lost and forgotten. But her
eyes were still bright blue and she still had a
smile on her face, even though her face was smudged
here and there by the touch of many chubby little
fingers.
“I think she’s perfect,” said mother. “Baby Jesus
probably didn’t have much hair when he was born
either, and I bet he’d like to be represented by
a doll who’s had so many hugs.”
So the decision was made and the children began
to make a new outfit for their Baby Jesus; a little
leather vest out of some scraps and some cloth
diapers. Best of all, Baby Jesus fit perfectly into
the little crib, but since it wasn’t quite time for
him to sleep there yet, he was laid carefully on a
shelf in the hall closet to wait for Christmas Eve.
Meanwhile, the pile of straw grew and grew. Every
day brought new and different surprises as the secret
elves stepped up their activity. The McDonald home
was finally filled with Christmas spirit. Only Eric
had been unusually quiet since the third week of
name picking.
The final night of name picking was also the night
before Christmas Eve. As the family sat around the
table waiting for the last set of names to be put
in the hat, mother said, “You’ve all done a wonderful
job. There must be hundreds of straws in our crib,
maybe a thousand. You should be so pleased with the
bed you’ve made. But remember, there’s still one
whole day left. We all have time to do a little
more to make the bed even softer before tomorrow
night. Let’s try.”
For the last time, the hat was passed around the
table. Little Mike pulled out a name, and daddy
whispered it to him, just as he had done every
week. Randi unfolded hers carefully under the table,
peeked at it and hunched up her shoulders, smiling.
Kelly reached into the hat and giggled happily
when she saw the name. Mother and daddy each took
their turns, too, and then handed the hat with the
last name to Eric. But as he unfolded the small
scrap of paper and read it, his face pinched up and
he suddenly seemed about to cry. Without a word, he
ran from the room.
Everyone immediately jumped up from the table, but
mother stopped them. “No, stay where you are,” she
said. “Let me talk to him alone first.”
Just as she reached the top of the stairs, Eric’s
door banged open. He was trying to pull his coat
on with one hand while he carried a small suitcase
with the other hand.
“I have to leave,” he said quietly, through his
tears. “If I don’t, I’ll spoil Christmas for everyone!”
"But why? And where are you going”? asked mother.
“I can sleep in my snow fort for a couple of days.
I’ll come home right after Christmas. I promise.”
Mother started to say something about freezing and
snow and no mittens or boots, but Daddy, who was now
standing just behind her, put his hand on her arm and
shook his head. The front door closed, and together
they watched from the window as the little figure with
the sadly slumped shoulders and no hat trudged across
the street and sat down on a snowbank near the corner.
It was very dark outside, and cold, and a few snow
flurries drifted down on the small boy and his suitcase.
“But he’ll freeze!” said mother.
“Give him a few minutes alone,” said dad quietly.
“Then you can talk to him.”
The huddled figure was already dusted with white when
mother walked across the street 10 minutes later and
sat down beside him on the snowbank.
“What is it, Eric? You’ve been so good these last few
weeks, but I know something’s been bothering you since
we first started the crib. Can you tell me, honey”?
“Aw, Mom, don’t you see”? he sniffed. “I tried so hard,
but I can’t do it anymore, and now I’m going to wreck
Christmas for everyone.” With that, he burst into sobs
and threw himself into his mother’s arms.
“But I don’t understand,” mother said, brushing the
tears from his face. “What can’t you do? And how could
you possibly spoil Christmas for us”?
"Mom,” the little boy said through his tears, “you
just don’t understand. I got Kelly’s name all four
weeks! And I hate Kelly! I can’t do one more nice
thing for her or I’ll die! I tried, mom. I really
did. I sneaked in her room every night and fixed her
bed. I even laid out her crummy nightgown. I emptied
her wastebasket, and I did some homework for her one
night when she was going to the bathroom. Mom, I even
let her use my race car one day, but she smashed it
right into the wall like always!”
“I tried to be nice to her, mom. Even when she called
me a stupid dummy because the crib leg was short, I
didn’t hit her. And every week, when we picked new
names, I thought it would be over. But tonight, when
I got her name again, I knew I couldn’t do one more
nice thing for her, mom. I just can’t! And tomorrow’s
Christmas Eve. I’ll spoil Christmas for everybody,
just when we’re ready to put Baby Jesus in the crib.
Don’t you see why I had to leave”?
They sat together quietly for a few minutes, mother’s
arm around the small boy’s shoulders. Only an occasional
sniffle and hiccup broke the silence on the snowbank.
Finally mother began to speak softly, “Eric, I am so
proud of you. Every good thing you did should count as
double because it was especially hard for you to be
nice to Kelly for so long. But you did all those nice
things anyway, one straw at a time. You gave your love
when it wasn’t easy to give. Maybe that’s what the
spirit of Christmas is really all about. If it’s too
easy to give, maybe we’re not really giving much of
ourselves after all. The straws you added were probably
the most important ones, and you should be proud of
yourself.”
“Now, how would you like a chance to earn a few easy
straws like the rest of us? I still have the name I
picked tonight in my pocket, and I haven’t looked at
it yet. Why don’t we switch, just for the last day?
It will be our secret.”
“That’s not cheating”?
“It’s not cheating,” mother smiled.
Together they dried the tears, brushed off the snow
and walked back to the house.
The next day, the whole family was busy cooking and
straightening up the house for Christmas Day,
wrapping last-minute presents and trying hard not
to burst with excitement. But even with all the
activity and eagerness, a flurry of new straws piled
up in the crib, and by nightfall it was overflowing.
At different times while passing by, each member
of the family, big and small, would pause and look
at the wonderful pile for a moment, then smile before
going on. It was almost time for the tiny crib to be
used. But was it soft enough? One straw might still
make a difference.
For that very reason, just before bedtime, mother
tip-toed quietly to Kelly’s room to lay out the
little blue nightgown and turn down the bed. But
she stopped in the doorway, surprised. Someone had
already been there. The nightgown was laid neatly
across the bed and a small red race car rested next
to it on the pillow.
The last straw was Eric’s after all.
--Paula McDonald
On to the chuckles:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Atheism is a non-prophet organization. ~~ George Carlin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If man evolved from monkeys and apes, why do we still
have monkeys and apes? ~~ George Carlin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The main reason Santa is so jolly is because he knows
where all the bad girls live. ~~ George Carlin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Santa lives at the North Pole ... JESUS is everywhere.
Santa rides in a sleigh ...
JESUS rides on the wind and walks on the water.
Santa comes but once a year ...
JESUS is an ever present help.
Santa fills your stockings with goodies ...
JESUS supplies all your needs.
Santa comes down your chimney uninvited ...
JESUS stands at your door and knocks, and then enters
your heart when invited.
You have to wait in line to see Santa ...
JESUS is as close as the mention of His name.
Santa lets you sit on his lap ...
JESUS lets you rest in His arms.
Santa doesn't know your name, all he can say is "Hi little
boy (or girl,) what's your name?" ...
JESUS knew our name before we did. Not only does He
know our name, He knows our address too. He knows our
history and future and He even knows how many hairs
are on our heads.
Santa has a belly like a bowl full of jelly ...
JESUS has a heart full of love.
All Santa can offer is HO HO HO ...
JESUS offers health, help and hope.
Santa says "You better not cry" ...
JESUS says "Cast all your cares on me for I care for you."
Santa's little helpers make toys ...
JESUS makes new life, mends wounded hearts, repairs
broken homes and builds mansions.
Santa is a "jolly old elf"
JESUS is the King of Kings
Santa may make you chuckle but ...
JESUS gives you joy that is your strength.
While Santa puts gifts under your tree ...
JESUS became our gift and died on a tree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twas the Night Before Christmas - Florida Version
by Unknown
T'was the night before Christmas
and all through the town,
no noses were frozen,
no snow fluttered down,
no children in flannels were tucked into bed,
they all wore shorty pajamas instead.
To find wreaths of holly, t'was not very hard,
for holly trees grew in every back yard.
In front of the houses, Dads and Moms
were adorning the bushes and coconut palms.
The sleeping kiddies were dreaming in glee,
hoping to find water skis under the tree.
They all knew that Santa was well on his way,
in a Mercedes-Benz, instead of a sleigh.
And soon he arrived and started to work,
he hadn't a second to linger or shirk.
He whizzed up the highways and zoomed up the road,
in a S-L 300, delivering his loads.
The tropical moon gave the city a glow,
and lighted the way for old Santa below.
As he jumped from the auto he gave a wee chuckle,
he was dressed in Bermudas with an Ivy league buckle,
There weren't any chimneys, but that caused no gloom,
for Santa came in through the Florida room.
He stopped at each house....stayed only a minute,
emptying his sack of stuff that was in it.
Before he departed, he treated himself
to a glass of papaya juice upon the shelf.
He turned with a jerk and bounced to the car,
remembering he still had to go very far.
He shifted the gears and stepped on the gas
and up Highway 436 he went like a flash.
And I heard him exclaim as he went on his way,
"MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL, I WISH I COULD STAY!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twas the Night Before Christmas - Texas style
by Unknown
T'was the night before Christmas, in Texas, you know.
Way out on the prairie, without any snow.
Asleep in their cabin, were Buddy and Sue,
A dreamin' of Christmas, like me and you.
Not stockings, but boots, at the foot of their bed,
For this was Texas, what more need be said,
When all of a sudden, from out of the still night,
There came such a ruckus, it gave me a fright.
And I saw 'cross the prairie, like a shot from a gun,
A loaded up buckboard, come on at a run,
The driver was "Geein" and "Hawin", with a will,
The horses (not reindeer) he drove with such skill.
"Come on there Buck, Poncho, & Prince, to the right,
There'll be plenty of travelin' for you all tonight."
The driver in Levi's and a shirt that was red,
Had a ten-gallon Stetson on top of his head.
As he stepped from the buckboard, he was really a sight,
With his beard and moustache, so curly and white.
As he burst in the cabin, the children awoke,
And were so astonished, that neither one spoke.
And he filled up their boots with such presents galore,
That neither could think of a single thing more.
When Buddy recovered the use of his jaws,
He asked in a whisper, "Are you really Santa Claus?"
"Am I the real Santa? Well, what do you think?"
And he smiled as he gave a mysterious wink.
Then he leaped in his buckboard, and called back in his drawl,
"To all the children in Texas, Merry Christmas, You-all"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twas the Night Before Christmas - Cowboy style
by Kelley, David
A Cowboy's Night Before Christmas
'Twas just before Santy came,
the story is told.
Cattle weren't stirrin',
fact they's bunched against the cold.
The tack was hung
near the chuckwagon with care.
Why, we didn't know Santy was
close anywhere.
Cowboys on the ground were
wishin' for their beds
While nightmares of wild steers
ran through their heads.'
Tween now and the next gather,
we needed a nap.
Cookie had just finished, and
tied down the flap.
When out past the cavvy,
there rose such a fuss,
I sprang to my feet,
leavin'the bedroll a muss,
And grabbin' my shotgun
and myragged ol' hat
I run t'ward the racket thinkin'
"...what'n thunder's that?"
When thoughts of amazement
through my head courses,
It was a buckboard teamed up
with draft horses,
A driver in red buckskins,
so spry and dainty,
I know'd in an instant,
it must be ol' Santy.
Quicker than jackrabbits,
them horses they came,
And, he's shoutin' commands
to each one by name...
"Get a step, Joe!. One more, Prince!
On, Big Ed!
Pick it up, Sam! Tighten up, Lou!
On, Old Ned!
Don't spook the cavvy,
back awayfrom them pens,
You're a pullin' this wagon
like abunch of ol' hens!
Now, when I haul on these lines
I mean to stop.
Hold up in this cow-camp
like a ton of cow flop!
"They sat down in their riggin',
like I knew they would,
With a wagon of goodies ...
made of leather and wood.
Then, in a twinklin'
with no further delay,
He said, "Back it up, boys,
this here ain't no sleigh".
I couldn't believe my ears,
and lookin' around,
Off that wagon ol' Santy
came with a bound.
He was short, and his chinks
reached near to his toes.
He was happy and fat,
with a little red nose.
There was a ton of packages
and some new tack,
And, ol' Santy was carryin' it
all on his back.
His eyes sort of bloodshot,
much like a cherry,
From 'rastlin' them horses
clean across the prairie.
His lips was plumb puckered,
his mouth drawn and droll,
(Mine got that way, the day I
swallered my Skoal.)
He was holdin' a piggin' string
tight in his teeth,
Not fer' tie down,
but for tyin''up' a fine wreath.
His head was too big and
he had a round belly,
No doubt derived
from eatin'Texas Chili.
He's chubby and plump all right,
I'd say quite jolly.
I laughed plumb out loud when
I seen him, by golly.
He winked his bloodshot eye,
and spat 'tween his lips,
And, it made me to know we
were all in the chips.
He weren't much for chatter,
just done what was due,
Givin' presents and goodies
to the whole durn crew.
Then, he stuck his finger in
his wee little ear,
Wallered it around and said,
"We're through bein' here".
He fled to the wagon,
and his team called 'em up,
"Come on you swaybacks ...
what's the dad-burn holdup?
We won't be back till next year'
cause we're flat broke.
Merry Christmas, my eye,
I just busted a spoke!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through the Net,
There were hacker's a surfing.
Nerds? Yeah, you bet.
The e-mails were stacked by the inbox with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The newbies were nestled all snug by their screens,
While visions of Java danced in their dreams.
My wife on the sofa and me with a snack,
We just settled down at my rig (it's a Mac).
When out in the Web there arose such a clatter,
I jumped to the site to see what was the matter.
To a new page my Mac flew like a flash,
Then made a slight gurgle. It started to crash!!
I gasped at the thought and started to grouse,
Then turned my head sideways and clicked on my mouse.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
My Mac jumped to a page that wasn't quite clear.
When the image resolved, so bright and so quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!
More rapid than mainframes, more graphics they came,
Then Nick glanced toward my screen, my Mac called them by name;
"Now Compaq! Now Acer!", my speaker did reel;
"On Apple! On Gateway!" Santa started to squeal!
"Jump onto the circuits! And into the chip!
Now speed it up! Speed it up! Make this thing hip!"
The screen gave a flicker, he was into my "Ram",
Then into my room rose a full hologram!
He was dressed in all red, from his head to his shoes,
Which were black (the white socks he really should lose).
He pulled out some discs he had stored in his backpack.
Santa looked like a dude who was rarin' to hack!
His eyes, how they twinkled! His glasses, how techno!
This ain't the same Santa that I used to know!
With a wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
Santa soon let me know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, gave my Mac a quick poke,
And accessed my C drive with only a stroke.
He defragged my hard drive, and added a "Dimm",
Then threw in some cool games, just on a whim!
He worked without noise, his fingers they flew!
He distorted some pictures with Kai's Power Goo!
He updated Office, Excel and Quicken,
Then added a screensaver with a red clucking chicken!
My eyes widened a bit, my mouth stood agape,
As he added the latest version of Netscape.
The drive gave a whirl, as if it were pleased,
St. Nick coyly smiled, the computer appeased.
Then placing his finger on the bridge of his nose,
Santa turned into nothing but ones and zeros!
He flew back into my screen and through my uplink,
Back into the net with barely a blink.
But I heard his sweet voice as he flew from my sight,
"Happy surfing to all, and to all a good byte!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Twas the month after Christmas,
and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste
At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.
'Twas the month after Christmas,
When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).
I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,
The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."
As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt
I said to myself, as only I can
" You can't spend a winter disguised as a man! "
So, away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip,
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
" Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won't have a cookie, not even a lick.
I'll want to chew only on a long celery stick.
I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie.
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore.
But isn't that what January is for?
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twas the Night Before Christmas - Hip Version
"YULESVILLE"
'Twas the night before Christmas
and all thru the pad,
Not a hep cat was swinging
- and that's nowhere, dad,
The stove was hung up
in that stocking routine,
Like, maybe the fat man
would soon make the scene.
The kids that fell by
had just made the street;
I was ready for Snoresville,
and man, was I beat;
When there started a rumble
that came on real frantic,
So I opened the window
to figure the panic.
I saw a slick rod
that was making fat tracks,
Souped up by eight ponies,
all wearing hat racks;
And a funny old geezer
was flipping his lid.
He told them to make it,
and man, like they did!
They were out of the chute,
making time like a bat,
Turning the quarter
in eight seconds flat.
They parked by the smokestack
in bunches and clusters,
And Chubby slid down,
coming on like gangbusters,
His threads were from Cubesville
and I had to chuckle,
In front, not in back,
was his Ivy league buckle!
And the mop on his chin
had a button-down collar,
And with that red nose
he looked like a baller.
Like he was the squarest,
the most absolute,
But let's face it,
who cares when he left all that loot?
He laid the jazz on me
and peeled from the gig,
Wailing, "Have a cool Yule, Man!"
and clutched off in his rig.
+-------------- Bizarre Christmas Traditions --------------+
In Italy they have no Christmas trees. Instead they decorate
small wooden pyramids with fruit.
Ukranians decorate their trees with an artificial spider and
matching web. A spider web found on Christmas morning is
believed to bring good luck.
The citizens of Caracas, Venezuela block off the streets on
Christmas eve so that people can roller-skate to God's house.
It is a British Christmas tradition that a wish made while
mixing the Christmas pudding will come true only if the
ingredients are stirred in a clockwise direction.
A traditional Christmas dinner in early England was the head
of a pig prepared with mustard.
Sending red Christmas cards to anyone in Japan constitutes
bad etiquette, since funeral notices there are customarily
printed in red.
In Norway on Christmas Eve, all the brooms in the house
are hidden because long ago it was believed that witches
and mischievous spirits came out on Christmas Eve and
would steal their brooms for riding.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I remember my dad was shopping in a toy store. He said,
"That's a terrific train set. I'll buy it."
The Clerk said, "Great, I'm sure your son will love it."
Dad said, "Maybe you're right. I'll take two."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Christmas Downsizing
Today's global challenges require the North Pole to
continue to look for better, more competitive steps.
Effective immediately, the following economy measures
are to take place in the "Twelve Days of Christmas"
subsidiary:
The partridge will be retained, but the pear tree never
turned out to be the cash crop forecasted. It will be
replaced by a plastic hanging plant, providing considerable
savings in maintenance.
The two turtle doves represent a redundancy that is
simply not cost effective. In addition, their romance
during working hours could not be condoned. The
positions are therefore eliminated.
The three French hens will remain intact. After all,
everyone loves the French.
The four calling birds were replaced by an automated
voice mail system, with a call waiting option. An analysis
is underway to determine who the birds have been calling,
how often and how long they talked.
The five golden rings have been put on hold by the Board
of Directors. Maintaining a portfolio based on one commodity
could have negative implications for institutional investors.
Diversification into other precious metals as well as a mix
of T-Bills and high technology stocks appear to be in order.
The six geese-a-laying constitutes a luxury which can no
longer be afforded. It has long been felt that the production
rate of one egg per goose per day is an example of the
decline in productivity. Three geese will be let go, and an
upgrading in the selection procedure by personnel will
assure management that from now on every goose it
gets will be a good one.
The seven swans-a-swimming is obviously a number
chosen in better times. Their function is primarily
decorative. Mechanical swans are on order. The current
swans will be retrained to learn some new strokes and
therefore enhance their outplacement.
As you know, the eight maids-a-milking concept has
been under heavy scrutiny by the EEOC. A male/female
balance in the workforce is being sought. The more
militant maids consider this a dead-end job with no
upward mobility. Automation of the process may permit
the maids to try a-mending, a-mentoring or a-mulching.
Nine ladies dancing has always been an odd number.
This function will be phased out as these individuals
grow older and can no longer do the steps.
Ten Lords-a-leaping is overkill. The high cost of Lords
plus the expense of international air travel prompted the
Compensation Committee to suggest replacing this group
with ten out-of-work congressmen. While leaping ability
may be somewhat sacrificed, the savings are significant
because we expect an oversupply of unemployed
congressmen this year.
Eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming
is a simple case of the band getting too big. A substitution
with a string quartet, a cut back on new music and no
uniforms will produce savings which will drop right down
to the bottom line.
We can expect a substantial reduction in assorted people,
fowl, animals and other expenses. Though incomplete,
studies indicate that stretching deliveries over twelve
days is inefficient. If we can drop ship in one day, service
levels will be improved.
Regarding the lawsuit filed by the attorney's association
seeking expansion to include the legal profession
("thirteen lawyers-a-suing"), action is pending.
Lastly, it is not beyond consideration that deeper cuts may
be necessary in the future to stay competitive. Should that
happen, the Board will request management to scrutinize
the Snow White Division to see if seven dwarfs is the right
number.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was slightly before Christmas. The trip went reasonably
well, and he was ready to go back. The airport on the other
end had turned a tacky red and green, and loudspeakers
blared annoying elevator renditions of cherished Christmas
carols. Being someone who took Christmas very seriously,
and being slightly tired, he was not in a particularly good
mood. Going to check in his luggage (which, for some reason,
had become one suitcase with entirely new clothes), he saw
hanging mistletoe.
Not real mistletoe, but very cheap plastic with red paint on
some of the rounder parts and green paint on some of the
flatter and pointier parts, that could be taken for mistletoe
only in a very Picasso sort of way.
With a considerable degree of irritation and nowhere else
to vent it, he said to the attendant, "Even if I were not
married, I would not want to kiss you under such a ghastly
mockery of mistletoe."
"Sir, look more closely at where the mistletoe is." (pause)
"Ok, I see that it's above the luggage scale, which is the
place you'd have to step forward for a kiss."
"That's not why it's there." (pause)
"Ok, I give up. Why is it there?"
"It's there so you can kiss your luggage goodbye."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks to Lori for these:
A blonde was weed-eating her yard and accidentally
cut off the tail of her cat who was hiding in the grass.
She rushed her cat, along with the tail over to WAL-
MART! Why WAL-MART???
Are you ready for this?
Are you sure?
Positive?
Okay, you asked for it!
WAL-MART is the largest retailer in the world!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks to Erin for these:
CHRISTMAS CAROLS FOR THE DISTURBED
* 1. Schizophrenia --- Do You Hear What I Hear?
* 2. Multiple Personality Disorder --- We Three Kings
Disoriented Are
* 3. Dementia --- I Think I'll be Home for Christmas
* 4. Narcissistic --- Hark the Herald Angels Sing
About Me
* 5. Manic --- Deck the Halls and Walls and House and
Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town and
Cars and Buses and Trucks and Trees and.....
* 6. Paranoid --- Santa Claus is Coming to Town to
Get Me
* 7. Borderline Personality Disorder --- Thoughts of
Roasting on an Open Fire
* 8. Personality Disorder --- You Better Watch Out,
I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll Tell You Why
* 9. Attention Deficit Disorder --- Silent night, Holy
oooh look at the Froggy - can I have a chocolate, why
is France so far away?
* 10. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder -- - Jingle Bells,
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
Jingle,Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Visit From Uncle Nick
or, "Christmas in South Philly"
or, "'Twas? What da hell kinda word is 'Twas?"
By Steve DiMeo
'Twas da night before Christmas,
You hear what I'm sayin'?
And all through South Philly,
Sinatra's Christmas tunes was playin'.
Da sink was piled high,
Fulla dirty dishes,
From da big Italian meal
Of gravy and seven fishes.
Da brats were outta hand
From eatin' too much candy.
We told them to go to bed
Or there wouldn't be no Santy.
And me in my sweatpants,
Da wife's hair fulla rollers,
Plopped our butts on the sofa
To fight over remote controllers.
When out in da shtreet,
There was all dis friggin' noise.
It sounded like a mob hit,
Ya' know, by Merlino and his boys.
I trew open da stormdoor
To look and see who's who.
Like a nosy little old lady
Who's got nuttin' better to do.
In da windows of da rowhomes
Stood white tinsel trees.
And those stupid moving dolls
You get on sale at Kindy's.
When what should I see,
Comin' from afar.
But fat Uncle Nick
In his big ole Towne Car.
He was swervin' and cursin',
Givin' all da gas he got;
As he barreled up the shtreet,
Looking for a spot.
More faster than Santa,
My drunk Uncle came;
Wit' a car full of relatives,
All drunk just the same.
"Yo Angie! Ay Dino!
Vic, Gina, and Pete,"
He yelled out there names,
Then spit a loogee in da shtreet
"I can't find no spot nowheres,"
Pissed off, he said.
So he double-parked the Lincoln,
And came in to hit da head.
As he hugged me, he burped,
And passed a loada gas.
It stunk up da house,
Like a rotten sea bass.
His coat was pure cashmere,
His pinky ring shined;
His toupee was all twisted,
The front was now behind.
He ran up to da bathroom,
Bangin' pictures wit' his hips.
Never lettin' da smelly stogie
Fall from his lips.
With eyes oh so bloodshot,
And a butt, oh so flabby;
In walked Aunt Angie,
All dolled-up and crabby.
D 'jeat yet?" she asked,
As she thundered to da kitchen;
"All da calamari's gone?"
Aunt Angie started bitchin'.
In came Cousin Gina,
In Guess jeans too tight.
She was bathed in Obsession,
Her hair reached new height.
In strut Cousins Dino, Little Petey
and Big Vic;
Shovin' pizzelles down their throats,
It was makin' me sick.
I said, "What da hell
Are all youse people doin?"
Not one of them answered,
They was too busy chewin'.
Uncle Nick came down at last.
His face was beet red
"Sorry I missed da toilet.
I pissed in the bathtub instead."
That was it, I had had it.
I yelled, "Get the hell out."
Uncle Nick looked real puzzled.
Cousin Gina started to pout.
Wit' that they mumbled curses,
And opened a Strawbridge's bag.
And fumbled 'round to find da gift
Wit' our name on da tag.
I then felt kinda stupid,
As I thanked them for their gift.
But they stormed out da stormdoor,
All of them miffed.
We tore open da paper
That was taped on and on.
It was a bottle of Sambuca,
And half of it was gone.
But I heard him yelling
As he slammed on da gas.
"Merry Christmas, ya ingrate!
You can kiss my ass!"
Yo. Happy Holidays, a'ight?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Thanks and have a great week!
Copyright 2006 by Shane and Associates
