Friday, December 25, 2009

Optimist vs. Pessimist Christmas

A family had twin boys whose only resemblance to each other was their looks. If one felt it was too hot, the other thought it was too cold. If one said the TV was too loud, the other claimed the volume needed to be turned up. Opposite in every way, one was an eternal optimist, the other a doom and gloom pessimist.

Just to see what would happen, on the twins’ birthday their father loaded the pessimist’s room with every imaginable toy and game. The optimist’s room he loaded with horse manure.

That night the father passed by the pessimist’s room and found him sitting amid his new gifts crying bitterly.

“Why are you crying?” the father asked.

“Because my friends will be jealous, I’ll have to read all these instructions before I can do anything with this stuff, I’ll constantly need batteries, and my toys will eventually get broken.” answered the pessimist twin.

Passing the optimist twin’s room, the father found him dancing for joy in the pile of manure. “What are you so happy about?” he asked.

To which his optimist twin replied, “There’s got to be a pony in here somewhere!”

Thursday, December 24, 2009

A Drunk’s Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
There were bottles of booze left around by some louse.
When through the North window there came a loud yell
I sprang to my feet to see what the hell…

And what to my bloodshot eyes should I see,
But eight drunken reindeer caught up in a tree.
And there in the branches, was a man with a sleigh.
I knew it was Santa, quite tiddley and gay.

Staggering nearer those eight reindeer came,
While he belched and hiccoughed and called them by name
“On Whiskey! On Vodka! we ain’t got all night,
You too, Gin and Brandy, now all do it right!

Clamber up on the roof, and get off this wall,
Get going you rummies, we’ve still got a long haul!”
So up on the roof went the reindeer and sleigh,
But a tree branch hit Santa before he could sway.

And then to my ears like the roll of a barrel,
A hell of a noise that was no Christmas carol.
So I pulled in my head and I cocked a sharp ear,
Down the chimney he plunged, landing smack on his rear.

He was both plump and chubby, and tried to stand right,
But he didn’t fool me, he was high as a kite.
He spoke not a word but went straight to work
And missed half the stockings, the drunken old jerk.

Then putting his thumb to the end of his nose,
He fluttered his fingers as he quoted prose.
As he sprung for his sleigh at so hasty a pace,
He tripped on a shingle and he slid on his face.

But I heard him call back as he passed out of sight,
“Merry Christmas, you lushes, now really get tight!”

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

CHANGING CHRISTMAS

A new contract for Santa has finally been negotiated. . . Please read the following carefully:

I regret to inform you that, effective immediately, I will no longer be able to serve Southern United States on Christmas Eve. Due to the overwhelming current population of the earth, my contract was renegotiated by North American Fairies and Elves Local 209. I now serve only certain areas of Canada and the northern boarder states.

As part of the new and better contract I also get longer breaks for milk and cookies so keep that in mind. However, I made certain that your children will be in good hands with your local replacement who happens to be my third cousin, Bubba Claus. His side of the family is from the South Pole. He shares my goal of delivering toys to all the good boys and girls; however, there are a few differences between us.

Differences such as:

1. There is no danger of a Grinch stealing your presents from Bubba Claus. He has a gun rack on his sleigh and a bumper sticker that reads: These toys insured by Smith and Wesson.

2. Instead of milk and cookies, Bubba Claus prefers that children leave an RC cola and pork rinds [or a moon pie] on the fireplace. And Bubba doesn’t smoke a pipe. He dips a little snuff though, so please have an empty spit can handy.

3. Bubba Claus; sleigh is pulled by floppy-eared, flying coon dogs instead of reindeer. I made the mistake of loaning him a couple of my reindeer one time, and Blitzen’s head now overlooks Bubba’s fireplace.

4. You won’t hear On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen . . ., when Bubba Claus arrives. Instead, you’ll hear, On Earnhardt, on Wallace, on Martin and Labonte. On Rudd, on Jarrett, on Elliott and Petty.

5. Ho, ho, ho! has been replaced by “Yee Haw!” And you also are likely to hear Bubba’s elves respond, “I herd dat!”

6. As required by Southern highway laws, Bubba Claus’ sleigh does have a Yosemite Sam safety triangle on the back with the words “Back off”. The last I heard it also had other decorations on the sleigh back as well. One is a Ford or Chevy logo with lights that race through the letters and the other is a caricature of me (Santa Claus) going wee-wee on the Tooth Fairy.

7. The usual Christmas movie classics such as “Miracle on 34th Street” and It’s a “Wonderful Life” will not be shown in your negotiated viewing area. Instead, you’ll see “Boss Hogg Saves Christmas” and “Smokey and the Bandit IV” featuring Burt Reynolds as Bubba Claus and dozens of state patrol cars crashing into each other.

8. Bubba Claus doesn’t wear a belt. If I were you, I’d make sure you, the wife, and the kids turn the other way when he bends over to put presents under the tree.

9. And finally, lovely Christmas songs have been sung about me like “Rudolph The Red-nosed Reindeer” and Bing Crosby’s “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town”. This year songs about Bubba Claus will be played on all the AM radio stations in the South. Those song titles will be Mark Chesnutt’s “Bubba Claus Shot the Jukebox”, Cledus T. Judd “All I Want for Christmas Is My Woman and a Six Pack”, and Hank Williams Jr.’s “If You Don’t Like Bubba Claus, You can Shove It.

Sincerely Yours, Santa Claus
(member of North American Fairies and Elves Local 209)

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

The Politically Correct 12 Days Of Christmas

On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my Significant Other in a consenting adult, monogamous relationship 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 non-human animal products,
FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration, (NOTE: after members 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…
ONE Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Microsoft Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except Papa's mouse.
The computer was humming, the icons were hopping,
As Papa did last minute Internet shopping.

The stockings were hung by the modem with care
In hope that St. Nicholas would bring new software.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of computer games danced in their heads.

PageMaker for Billy, and Quicken for Dan,
And Carmen Sandiego for Pamela Ann.
The letters to Santa had been sent out by Mom,
To santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com -

Which has now been re-routed to Washington State
Because Santa's workshop has been bought by Bill Gates.
All the elves and reindeer have had to skedaddle
To flashy new quarters in suburban Seattle.

After centuries of a life that was simple and spare,
St. Nicholas is suddenly a new billionaire,
With a shiny red Porsche in the place of his sleigh,
And a house on Lake Washington that's just down the way

From where Bill has his mansion. The old fellow preens
In black Gucci boots and red Calvin Klein jeans.
The elves have stock options and desks with a view,
Where they write computer code for Johnny and Sue.

No more dolls or toy soldiers or little toy drums (ahem - pardon me)
No more dolls or tin soldiers or little toy drums
Will be under the tree, only compact disk ROMS
With the Microsoft label. So spin up your drive,
From now on Christmas runs only on Win95.

More rapid than eagles the competitors came,
And Bill whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
"Now, ADOBE! Now, CLARIS! Now, INTUIT! too,
Now, APPLE! and NETSCAPE! you are all of you through,

It is Microsoft's SANTA that the kids can't resist,
It's the ultimate software with a traditional twist -
Recommended by no less than the jolly old elf,
And on the package, a picture of Santa himself.

Get 'em young, keep 'em long, is Microsoft's scheme,
And a merger with Santa is a marketer's dream.
To the top of the NASDAQ! to the top of the Dow!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away - wow!"

And Mama in her 'kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
The whir and the hum of our satellite platter,

As it turned toward that new Christmas star in the sky,
The SANTALITE owned by the Microsoft guy.
As I sprang from my bed and was turning around,
My computer turned on with a Jingle-Bells sound.

And there on the screen was a smiling Bill Gates
Next to jolly old Santa, two arm-in-arm mates.
And I heard them exclaim in voice so bright,
Have a Microsoft Christmas, and to all a good night.

Ebonics Christmas

'Twas da night befo' Christmas and all in the hood, Not a homie was stirring cuz it was all good.
The tube socks was hung on the window sill and we all had smiles up on our grill.
Mookie and BeBe was snug in the crib in the back bedroom, cuz that's how we live.
And Moms in her do-rag and me with my nine, had just gotten busy cuz girlfriend is fine.

All of a sudden a lowrider rolled by, Bumpin' phat beats cuz the system's fly.
I bounced to the window at a quarter pas' 'Bout ready to pop a cap in somebody's ass!
well anyway....

I yelled to my lady, Yo peep this! She said, Stop frontin' & just mind yo' bidness.
I said, for real doe, come check dis out.

We weren't even buggin', no worries, no doubt. Cuz bumpin' an thumpin' from around da way
Was Santa, 8 reindeer and a sleigh.

Da beats was kickin', da ride was phat I said, "Yo red Dawg, you all that!"
He threw up a sign and yelled to his boyz, "Ay yo, give it up, let's make some noise!"
To the top of the projects & across the strip mall, We gots ta go, I got a booty call!"

He pulled up his ride on the top a da roof, and sippin' on a 40, he busted a move.

I yelled up to Santa, "Yo ain't got no stack!" he said, "Damn homie, deese projects is wack!
But don't worry black, cuz I gots da skillz
I learnt back when I hadda pay da billz."
Out from his bag he pulled 3 small tings a credit card, a knife, and a bobby pin.
He slid down the fire exscape smoove as a cat, and busted the window wit' a b-ball bat.

I said, "Whassup, Santa? Whydya bust my place?"
he said,"You best get on up out my face!"
His threads was all leatha, his chains was all gold,
His sneaks was Puma and they was 5 years old.

He dropped down the duffle, Bulls logo on the side.
Santa broke out da loot and my mouf popped open wide.
A wink of his eye and a shine off his gold toof,
He cabbage patched his way back onto the roof
He jumped in his hooptie wit' rims made of chrome,
To tap that big booty waitin' at home.

And all I heard as he cruised outta sight, was a loud and hearty.....
"WEEESST SIIIIDE!!!!!!!"