Chirstmas Humor

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Here are two of my favorite Christmas parodies. To the best of my knowledge they are not copyrighted. I’m sure most of you have seen them before, but they make me smile every year.

The first one:

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December 14

My dearest darling John:

Who ever in the whole world would dream of getting a real
Partridge in a Pear Tree? How can I ever express my
pleasure. Thank you a hundred times for thinking of me
this way.

My love always,
Agnes

December 15

Dearest John:

Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just
imagine two turtle doves. I’m just delighted at your very
thoughtful gift. They are just adorable.

All my love,
Agnes

December 16

Dear John:

Oh! Aren’t you the extravagant one. Now I must protest. I
don’t deserve such generosity, three French hens. They are
just darling but I must insist, you’ve been too kind.

All my love,
Agnes

December 17

Dear John:

Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now
really, they are beautiful, but don’t you think enough is
enough. You are being too romantic.

Affectionately,
Agnes

December 18

Dearest John:

What a surprise. Today the postman delivered five golden
rings, one for every finger. You’re just impossible, but I
love it. Frankly, all those birds squawking were beginning
to get on my nerves.

All my love,
Agnes

December 19

Dear John:

When I opened the door today there were actually six geese
laying on my front steps. So you’re back to the birds
again, huh? These geese are huge. Where will I ever keep
them? The neighbors are complaining and I can’t sleep
through the racket. Please stop.

Cordially,
Agnes

December 20

John:

What’s with you and those fucking birds?? Seven swans a
swimming? What kind of damn joke is this? There’s bird
shit all over the house and they never stop the racket. I
can’t sleep at night and I’m a nervous wreck. It’s not
funny. So stop with the fucking birds.

Sincerely,
Agnes

December 21

O.K. Buster:

I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do
with 8 maids a milking? It’s not enough with all those
birds and 8 maids a milking, but they had to bring their
damn cows. There’s shit all over the lawn and I can’t
move in my own house. Just lay off me, smartass.

Agnes

December 22

Hey Shithead:

What are you? Some kind of sadist? Now there’s nine pipers
playing. And Christ do they play. They’ve never stopped
chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning.
The cows are getting upset and they’re stepping all over
those screeching birds. What am I going to do? The
neighbors have started a petition to evict me.

You’ll get yours, asshole!
Agnes

December 23

You rotten bastard,

Now there’s ten ladies dancing. I don’t know why I call
those sluts ladies. They’ve been balling those pipers all
night long. Now the cows can’t sleep and they’ve got
diarrhea. My living room is a river of shit. The
Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause
why the building shouldn’t be condemned. I’m calling the
police on you!

Agnes

December 24

Listen Motherfucker:

What’s with those eleven lords a leaping on those maids
and ladies? Some of these broads will never walk again!
Those pipers ran through the maids and have been
committing sodomy with the cows. All twenty-three of the
birds are dead. They’ve been trampled to death in the
orgy. I hope you’re satisfied, you rotten vicious swine.

Your sworn enemy,
Agnes

December 25

Dear Sir:

This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers
fiddling which you have seen fit to inflict on our client,
Miss Agnes McHolstein. The destruction, of course, was
total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If
you should attempt to reach Miss McHolstein at Happy Dale
Sanitarium, the attendants have been instructed to shoot
you on sight. With this letter please find attached a
warrant for your arrest.

Cordially,
Law Offices of
Badger, Bender and Chole

2

two:

57 Elm Street, Bethlehem, Pa.
11:51 p.m., December 24th.

MULDER: “We’re too late! It’s already been here.”
SCULLY: “Mulder, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
MULDER: “Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas fir, truncated, mounted, transformed into a shrine; halls decked with boughs of holly; stockings hung by the chimney, with care.”
SCULLY: “You really think someone’s been here?”
MULDER: “Someone, or something.”
SCULLY: “Mulder, over here-it’s a fruitcake.”
MULDER: “Don’t touch it! Those things can be lethal.”
SCULLY: “It’s O.K. There’s a note attached: ‘Gonna find out who’s naughty and nice.’”
MULDER: “It’s judging them, Scully. It’s making a list.”
SCULLY: “Who? What are you talking about?”
MULDER: “Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity who could travel at great speed in a craft powered by antlered servants. Once a year, near the winter solstice, this creature is said to descend from the heavens to reward its followers and punish disbelievers with jagged chunks of anthracite.”
SCULLY: “But that’s legend, Mulder-a story told by parents to frighten children. Surely you don’t believe it?”
MULDER: “Something was here tonight, Scully. Check out the bite marks on this gingerbread man. Whatever tore through this plate of cookies was massive-and in a hurry.”
SCULLY: “It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder, this milk glass has been completely drained.”
MULDER: “It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without remorse.”
SCULLY: “But why would they leave it milk and cookies?”
MULDER: “Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can stop its wilding.”
SCULLY: “But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The doors and windows were locked. There’s no sign of forced entry.”
MULDER: “Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace.”
SCULLY: “Wait a minute, Mulder. If you’re saying some huge creature landed on the roof and came down this chimney, you’re crazy. The flue is barely six inches wide. Nothing could get down there.”
MULDER: “But what if it could alter its shape, move in all directions at once?”
SCULLY: “You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?”
MULDER: “Exactly. Scully, I’ve never told anyone this, but when I was a child my home was visited. I saw the creature. It had long white shanks of fur surrounding its ruddy, misshapen head. Its bloated torso was red and white. I’ll never forget the horror. I turned away, and when I looked back it had somehow taken on the facial features of my father.”
SCULLY: “Impossible.”
MULDER: “I know what I saw. And that night it read my mind. It brought me a Mr. Potato Head, Scully. It knew that I wanted a Mr. Potato Head!”
SCULLY: “I’m sorry, Mulder, but you’re asking me to disregard the laws of physics. You want me to believe in some supernatural being who soars across the skies and brings gifts to good little girls and boys. Listen to what you’re saying. Do you understand the repercussions? If this gets out, they’ll close the X-files.”
MULDER: “Scully, listen to me: It knows when you’re sleeping. It knows when you’re awake.”
SCULLY: “But we have no proof.”
MULDER: “Last year, on this exact date, SETI radio telescopes detected bogeys in the airspace over twenty-seven states. The White House ordered a ‘Condition Red.’”
SCULLY: “But that was a meteor shower.”
MULDER: “Officially. Two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian reindeer vanished from the National Zoo, in Washington, D.C. Nobody-not even the zookeeper-was told about it. The government doesn’t want people to know about Project Kringle. They fear that if this thing is proved to exist the public will stop spending half its annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy. Retail markets will collapse. Scully, they cannot let the world believe this creature lives. There’s too much at stake. They’ll do whatever it takes to insure another silent night.”
SCULLY: “Mulder, I-”
MULDER: “Sh-h-h. Do you hear what I hear?”
SCULLY: “On the roof. It sounds like … a clatter.”
MULDER: “The truth is up there. Let’s see what’s the matter.”

3

Dog tags ring, are you listenin’?
In the lane, snow is glistenin’
It’s yellow, not white
I’ve been here tonight
Markin’ up my winter wonderland.

Smell that tree? That’s my fragrance
It’s a sign to wandering vagrants!
Stay off where I pee,
It’s my property
Marked out as my winter wonderland.

In the meadow dad can build a snowman
Following the classical design
Then I lift my leg and let it go man
So all the world will know it’s mine, mine, mine!

Straight from me to the fencepost
Flows my natural incense boast
“Stay off of my turf
This small piece of Earth
Is marked out as my winter wonderland!”

4

Holiday Fruitcake Recipe

1 C Water
1 C Sugar
4 Large eggs
3 C dried fruit
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
1 C Brown sugar
Lemon juice, nuts
1 FULL bottle of your favorite whiskey

Sample the whiskey to check for quality.
Take out a large bowl.
Check the whiskey again to be sure that it is of the highest quality.
Pour 1 level cup and drink. Repeat.
Turn on the electric mixer; beat 1 C of butter in a large fluffy bowl.
Add 1 tsp. sugar and beat again.
Make sure the whiskey is still of good quality.
Cry another cup. Turn off the mixer.
Break two leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.
Mix on the turner.
If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaters, pry it loose with a drewscriver.
Sample the whiskey to check for tonsisity.
Next, sift 2 cups of salt. Or something. Who cares?
Check the whiskey.
Now sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.
Add one tablespoon of sugar or something…whatever you can find.
Grease the oven. Turn on the cake tin to 350 degrees.
Don’t forget to beat off the turner.
Check the whiskey again.
Go to bed.

5

“Jingle Bombs” by Achmed the dead terrorist with the assistance of Jeff Dunham: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCRNJwRY3TA

6

This guy goes into his dentist’s office, because something is wrong with his mouth. After a brief examination, the dentist exclaims, “Holy Smoke! That plate I installed in your mouth about six months ago has nearly completely corroded! What on earth have you been eating?”

"Well... the only thing I can think of is this... my wife made me some asparagus about four months ago with this stuff on it... Hollandaise sauce she called it... and doctor, I'm talkin' DELICIOUS! I've never tasted anything like it, and ever since then I've been putting it on everything... meat, fish, toast, vegetables.. you name it!"

"That's probably it," replied the dentist "Hollandaise sauce is made with lemon juice, which is acidic and highly corrosive. It seems as though I'll have to install a new plate, but made out of chrome this time."

"Why chrome?" the man asked.

"Well, everyone knows that there's no plate like chrome for the Hollandaise!"

    The big chess tournament was taking place at the Plaza in New York. After the first day's competition, many of the winners were sitting around in the foyer of the hotel talking about their matches and bragging about their wonderful play. After a few drinks they started getting louder and louder until finally, the desk clerk couldn't take any more and kicked them out.

    The next morning the manager called the clerk into his office and told him there had been many complaints about his being so rude to the hotel guests....instead of kicking them out, he should have just asked them to be less noisy.

    The clerk responded, "I'm sorry, but if there's one thing I can't stand, it's chess nuts boasting in an open foyer."

'Twas the night before Festivus and all through Queens,
Not a Costanza was yelling…as strange as it seems.
The family was sleeping, just waiting for light.
Saving their strength for the upcoming fight.

At the crack of dawn on December twenty-three,
Frank put up the pole… instead of a tree.
Estelle prepared the meal that would start the rite,
Not a laugh or a smile was anywhere in sight.

George dreaded this hour that came every year,
The airing of grievances would soon be here.
Frank stood at the table and bellowed out loud,
“So who’s got a complaint amongst this crowd?”

“You two are crazy and have wrecked my life!”
Cried George at his parents who mocked him for spite.
“A Lloyd Braun you’ll never be,” was Estelle’s refrain,
“Why should I try, Ma?.. the guy’s insane!”

“Enough with the grievances,” Frank said with some glee.
“Now which one of you two is wrestling me?
So feats of strength you want? Let them begin here.”
“It’s your turn to fight him, Ma … he beat me last year.”

The battle was started, the screaming was lyrical.
The fact no one got hurt was … ANOTHER FESTIVUS MIRACLE!!!