Christmas Jokes!A few days before Christmas, a man enters a pet store looking for a unique gift for his wife. The store manager tells him he has just what he's looking for; a beautiful parrot named Chet that sings Christmas carols. He brings the husband over to a colorful but quiet bird. The man agrees that Chet certainly is pretty, but he doesn't seem to be much for singing. The manager tells him to watch as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lighter. The manager then clicks the lighter and holds it under Chet's left foot. Immediately Chet starts singing; "Silent Night, Holy Night." The husband is very impressed with Chet's singing abilities and watches as the manager moves the lighter underneath Chet's right foot. Chet now starts to sing "Jingle Bells, Jingle All the Way." The husband says Chet is perfect and that he'll take him. The husband rushes home to his wife and insists upon giving her this wonderful gift immediately. He presents Chet and starts to explain the parrot's special talent. Demonstrating, he holds a lighter under Chet's left foot and the bird sings "Silent Night." He then moves the lighter under the right foot and Chet lets loose a round of "Jingle Bells." The wife is absolutely impressed, and with a mischievous grin asks her husband what happens if he holds the lighter between Chet's legs instead. Curious the husband moves the lighter between the bird's legs, and the bird begins to sing: "Chet's Nuts Roasting on an Open Fire!"
Twas the Night before Finals T'was the night before finals, And all through the college, The students were praying For last minute knowledge. Most were quite sleepy, But none touched their beds, While visions of essays Danced in their heads. Snowman Out in the taverns, A few were still drinking, And hoping that liquor Would get their brains thinking. In my own apartment, I had been pacing, Dreading all those exams I soon would be facing. My roommate was speechless, His nose in his books, And my comments to him Drew unfriendly looks. I drained all the coffee, And brewed a new pot, No longer caring That my nerves were shot. I stared at my notes, But my thoughts were all muddy, My eyes went a'blur, I just couldn't study. "Some pizza might help," I said with a shiver, But each place I called Refused to deliver. I'd pretty much concluded Life is unfair and cruel, Since our futures all depend On grades made in school. When all of a sudden, Our door opened wide, And Patron Saint Put-It-Off Ambled inside. Her spirit was careless, Her manner was mellow, She looked at the mess And started to bellow: "Why should us students Make such a fuss, About what those teachers Toss out to us?" "On Cliff Notes! On Crib Notes! On Last Year's Exams! On Wingit and Slingit, And Last Minute Crams!" Her message delivered, She vanished from sight, But we heard her laughing Outside in the night. "Your teachers won't flunk you, So just do your best. Happy Finals to All, And to All, a good test."
The Christmas diet song: 'Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips. Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care in hopes that my thighs would forget they were there. While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps had just settled down to sugar-borne naps. When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash tore open the icebox then threw up the sash. The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow sent thoughts of a binge to my body below. When what to my wandering eyes should appear: a marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer! That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick. The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear; On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS a Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox. From the top of the scales to the top of the hall now dash away pounds now dash away all. Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress my clothes were all bulging from too much excess. My droll little mouth and my round little belly they shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly. I spoke not a word but went straight to my work ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk. And laying a finger beside my heartburn I gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned. I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry if temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by. And I mumbled again as I turned for the night in the morning I'll starve . . . 'til I take that first bite.
Dear Santa, I understand that one of my colleagues has petitioned you for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and career changes. In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging remarks were made about me, my ability to please, and some of my fashion choices. I would like to take this opportunity to inform you of some issues concerning Ms. Barbie, and some of my own needs and desires. First of all, I along with several other colleagues feel Barbie DOES NOT deserve preferential treatmen; the bitch has EVERYTHING! I, along with Joe, Jem, Raggedy Ann & Andy, DO NOT have a dream house, Corvette, evening gowns, and in some cases, the ability to change our hairstyle. I personally have 3 outfits which I am forced to mix and match at great length. My decision to accessorize my outfits with an earring was my decision and reflects my lifestyle choice. I, too, would like a change in my career. Have you considered "Decorator Ken", "Beauty Salon Ken", or "Out of Work Actor Ken"? In addition, there are several other avenues which could be considered such as:"S&M Ken", "Green Lantern Ken", "Circuit Ken", "Bear Ken", "Master Ken". These would more accurately reflect my desires and perhaps open new markets. And as for Barbie needing bendable arms so she can"push me away", I need bendable knees so I can kick that bitch to the curb. Bendable knees would also be helpful for me in other situations- we've talked about this issue before. In closing, I would like to point out that any further concessions to the blonde bimbo from Hell will result in action taken by myself and others. PS. Barbie can forget about having Joe; he's mine, at least that is what he said last night. Sincerely, Ken
Santa Claus is not a woman. Here's why: First, Christmas would be late every year. The line at the department store would never move because Santa would feel the need to 'bond' with every kid that sat on her lap. The elves would never get any toys made because they'd be too busy telling her, "No Santa, those red pants do NOT make your butt look fat." Plus: * Soot is a female irritant * Women don't know how to change the lightbulb in Rudolph's nose * Most women surveyed said they prefer little or no facial hair * Elves are not personal servants * Nice girls don't walk around saying 'Ho' * Mrs. Claus is not a lesbian. Also, the sleigh and the reindeer are not equipped with an automatic transmission, a cell phone or vanity mirrors. If Santa was female, she wouldn't have white hair, she'd be the North Pole poster child for 'Clairol Brunette # whatever'. Santa Chick would only bring junk like 'Easy Bake' ovens, Baby 'Pukes 'n Craps', and worst of all - CLOTHES - to all the little kids in the world because they're far less threatening than really cool toys like 'Johnny Thermo-nuclear Warhead' or 'Rock-em Sock-em Robots' or 'GI Joe Talking Adventure Team Commander with Kung Fu Grip'. And when you leave a plate of cookies out on the kitchen table on Christmas Eve, Santa samples each one to prove he was there. If Santa was a woman, the whole damn cookie jar would be missing and and there'd be a sea of empty Ben & Jerry's containers all over the kitchen floor. As far as that red velvet suit is concerned, Mrs Claus withheld sex until Santa agreed to wear it. And if all that doesn't prove without a doubt that Santa is a guy, consider this verse from the poem: T'was The Night Before Christmas: "He spoke not a word but went straight to his work..." If Santa was female, that line would have read: "She never shut up, so Christmas was cancelled..." Yep, Santa's a guy alright, as are most mythical holiday characters (with the exception of the Easter Bunny, thanks to Hugh Heffner).
A parent's night before Christmas: '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 (not asleep) in their beds, While Dad and I faced the evening with dread: A 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 parts be missing or parts incomplete! Too late for last-minute returns or replacement; If we can't get it right, it goes 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 we failed, only we could be blamed. More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out, All over the carpet they were scattered about. "Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there! Slide on the seats, and staple the stair! 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 perfect, Christmas, I bet!" Then off to dreamland and sweet repose I gratefully went, Though I suppose there's something to say for those self-deluded... I'd forgotten that batteries are never included!