The sardarni asks her lover, santa dear, if we get engaged, will you give me a ring?.

Sure, replies santa. Whats your phone number.

Star Trek Carols



Jean-Luc Picard (to the tune of Let It Snow)

Oh, the vacuum outside is endless,

Unforgiving, cold, and friendless,

But still we must boldly go–

Make it so, make it so, make it so!





William Riker: (to the tune of Deck the Halls)

Heres a vexing Christmas riddle:

(Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la, la la)

Why must I play second fiddle?

(Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la, la la)

How can I impress Deanna

(Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la la la)

When Im number two banana?

(Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la, la la)





Wesley Crusher: (to the tune of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen)

Im at Starfleet Academy,

And Id just like to say

I miss the opportunity

To weekly save the day–

To make things worse, I have to be

In some dumb Christmas play!

Yes, Im bright, though Im just a teenaged boy,

Only a boy,

And the Enterprise was my most favourite toy!





Data: (to the tune of Jingle Bells)

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,

Jingle all the way!

Oh, what fun it is to ride

In a one-horse open sleigh–

or so I am reliably informed lacking a subjective

and intuitively perceived referent for the term fun,

I am able only to report the phenomenon as experienced

by others, whose individual perceptions somewhat colour the–

yes, sir.





Worf: (to be to the tune of White Christmas)

Im dreaming of a dead Pakled,

Just like the one in Rec Deck Eight.

They all think theyve hidden,

But this one didnt,

And Im using him as bait.

Im dreaming of a dead Pakled–

Their mental skills are rather lame.

May your foes die sonless, in shame–

And I hope youre wishing me the same!

A married woman walks up to Santa Claus and tells him that all she wants for Christmas is for her husband to be interested in sex. Santa then proceeds to give her a bottle of pills. He tells her to give them a try and then let him know how its working.

So she takes the pills home and puts one pill in her husbands Christmas dinner. That night, they make love for one hour. The next day, shes running around thrilled and happy. Oh, my God. I cant believe how well that worked, she thinks to herself. That night she puts two pills in his food and that night they make love for two hours. The next day, shes even more thrilled, so she dumps all the pills in his food.

Two weeks go by without any word from this woman, so Santa decides to give her a call. A little boy answers the phone. Santa says, Little boy, is your mother home?

No, shes…whos this? the little boy asks. Im a friend of your mothers and I gave her some pills to help her out a couple of weeks ago. Maybe you know how its going?

That was you?! the little boy says. Let me tell you — Moms dead, sisters pregnant, my ass hurts and Dads in the attic going, Here kitty, kitty, kitty.

On the first day of Christmas, my kitten ruined for me …

A batch of my special hand-print cookies. I had turned my back to grab the cookie sheet sitting on the stove. In that micro-second, Sara climbed onto the table, poked her paw into the delightfully kneady mixture and, suddenly off-balance, fell into the cookie dough. Net loss? Six cups of flour, four cups of sugar, three sticks of butter … Of course, it would have been cheaper to remove the feline ingredient, pick out the hairs, and just rename the recipe Paw Print Cookies.

On the second day of Christmas, my kitten accompanied me …

On a trip to the vet clinic. Who knew that skinny curling ribbon has feline taste appeal? I didnt. Damages: $28 for the office visit, $36 for anesthesia so the veterinarian could take $55 X-rays in case Sara had taste-tested any other Christmas decorations, and a heck of a lot of embarrassment when the vet removed the 3 curly tail in slightly less than two seconds by tugging at it with a pair of tweezers.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my kitten broke for me …

A statue in my Lenox Nativity. Would you believe two Wise men plus a head? Lenox nativity figurines: $55.99

On the fifth day of Christmas, my kitten scratched for me …

The kid across the street who collects for charity. It was an accident. She merely wanted to reach out and touch someone. Unfortunately, she used a unsheathed claw to do so. I settled out-of-court for the cost of a jacket to replace the boys blood stained one and a hefty donation to the charity of their choice. Although the amount must remain secret according to our settlement, let me put it this way. You havent seen many soldiers for the Salvation Army this year, have you? Think: Major Windfall!

On the sixth day of Christmas, my kitten opened for me …

I forget what, she ate it so quickly. I do remember all the clean up afterwards though. Yuck!

On the seventh day of Christmas, my kitten lost for me …

The earrings I bought for my sister Mary. Actually, it was one earring but since Mary doesnt have a hole in her nose or navel, a pair of matching earrings does make a more appealing gift. Sale price: $29.95 plus tax.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my kitten helped me …

Replace my E and G guitar strings. Would you believe a kitten could fit into the itty-bitty hole in the middle of my Yamaha guitar? Neither could I, but Sara thought so. And she succeeded once she got those rascally strings out of the way. Unfortunately, her little rear end couldnt get out the way it came in. After paying through the whiskers for her previous escapades, I would have been willing to leave her in the guitar for the duration of the holiday season, except that she chose to get stuck two hours before I was due at the nursing home for our annual Christmas carol sing-a-long. Set of steel guitar strings: $12.95; jar of petroleum jelly: 79 cents.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my kitten destroyed for me …

My Christmas card list when she walked across my computers delete key. Cost for call to Computer Countrys 900/help line: $17.50. And I still dont know what happened to the listings of B through H.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my kitten hid from me …

The remote control from my 13-inch TV. This wouldnt be such a disaster if she hadnt previously stolen the power knob. I missed a weeks worth of Christmas specials, including my all-time favorite, Its a Wonderful Life. Rental of Its a Wonderful Life: $2; purchase of book, Good owners, great cats: $24.95. Unfortunately, it never mentions the psychological profile of kittens with kleptomania.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my kitten ate for me …

The drumsticks off my 19-pound turkey. OK, OK, So this one time it was my fault. I knew I never should have uttered those now infamous words: Your first turkey, Sara. Want to try just a little piece? Cost: Christmas Dinner.

On the 12th day of Christmas …

Sara rested. And so, thank goodness, did my VISA card.

Things not to Say When Hanging the Lights

Did you know that hanging lights on a Christmas tree is one of the three
most stressful situations in an on-going relationship? Our psychiatrist
claims the other two danger zones are teaching your mate to drive and
wallpapering. (He is rarely wrong on these things.)

We bring you this list of Things Not To Say When
Hanging Lights on the Christmas Tree.

Youve got two red lights right next to each other, dummy. Youre supposed
to go yellow, green, red, blue, not yellow, red, red, green, blue…

Up a little higher. You can reach it. Go on, try.

What the hell do you do to these lights when you put them away every year?
Tie them in knot?

Come away from that aluminum ladder, kids. Im going to fry that sucker.

If youre not going to do it right, dont do it at all. Dont just throw
them on, like you do the icicles. Youre worse than your father.

Give me that!

Youve got the whole thing on the tree upside-down. The electric pluggee
thing should be down here at the bottom, not up at the top.

I dont care if you have found another two strings, Im done!

Youve just wound em around and around – I thought we agreed it shouldnt
look like a spiral this year?

Have you been drinking?

Wheres the cat?

Twas the week after Christmas, and all through the house

Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.

The cookies Id nibbled, the eggnog Id taste

At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.



When I got on the scales there arose such a number!

When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).



Id remember the marvelous meals Id prepared;

The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,



The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese

And the way Id never said, No thank you, please.



As I dressed myself in my husbands old shirt

And prepared once again to do battle with dirt—



I said to myself, as I only can

You cant 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 wont have a cookie–not even a lick.

Ill want only to chew on a long celery stick.



I wont have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,

Ill munch on a carrot and quietly cry.



Im hungry, Im lonesome, and life is a bore—

But isnt that what January is for?



Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.

Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!

Ebonics: Why we be talkin like you? Is you listening
anyway?

Redneconics: Taint sure, Clem, baa I think he
said he wanns to rape all the white women. Less git em!

Blueblonics: I say, Tad, what are they fighting
about now? You know I cant make out a word mumsys servants say.

911onics: Im sorry, wheres the emergency? I cant
understand a thing youre saying.

Coponics: Youre all under arrest under Section
1929 of the penal code. Sergeant, get those blacks and rednecks in
front of the firing squad, the women in the back seat of the patrol
car, and issue Mr. Tadington a ticket.

Dowonics: 1929? Im sorry, I dont understand.

Moronics: National Aglet is at 1929? Buy more!
Were going over 68 today!

Globalecononics: Were sorry Mrs. Jones, we know
youve worked here at National Aglet for 68 years. But you must
understand that a 14 year old Thai girl is simply a more desirable
employee.

Tvnewonics: … and police say they dont know
why the 85 year old grandmother was so distraught. When we return,
more good news from Wall Street, as the Dow sets another new
record. Well have an in-depth look after these messages.

Towerofbabelonics: Although I must admit, Tad,
that it tis a blessing the workers CANT talk to each other, or they
might figure out that theres no staircase in the blueprints.

Twas the Night before Christmas, and all through the shack
Not a creature was stirrin, cept the lice on muh back.
The Skoal cans wuz nailed to the screen door with care,
With hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were sleepin, all snug in their beds,
While visions of tractor pulls danced in their heads.
And Ma in her nightgown all stained with pound cake.
Had just settled down to watch Ricki Lake.When out in the driveway, a loud noise I heard,
I opened the winder to check muh T-bird.
I ran to the door, like Is on a mission,
But I tripped on some parts from muh grannys transmission.The moon shone outside, the hound dog wuz barkin.
Muh daughter werent home yet, she wuz still out parkin.When what to muh whiskey blind eyes should I see
But a Chevy S-10, pulled by eight flyin sheep.
With a fat nasty driver, so disgustin and sick
I said, Shoot Fire! That must be St. Nick!More rapid than X-lax his wooly sheep came
And he belched and he hollered, and he called em by name.Now CLIFFORD! Now VERNON! Now LESTER and ENUS!
On FESTUS! On ELMER! On ROSCOE and CLETUS!From the top of the shack to them there garbage bins
Now Dash Away! Dash Away! Dash Away youins!I heard a loud sound on the roof of muh shack.
Pud down muh beer and went fer muh gun rack.
He fell through the roof, plum killed my dog,
I swear that ole Santa looked just like Boss Hog.He wore a T-shirt, rebel flag on the front,
And his jeans were all bloody from that mornings hunt.
A big nekkid lady tattooed on his arm,
And he wore black boots that hed picked up in Nam.His eyes, how they glazed from too much Wild Turkey.
From the side of his mouth hung a stick of beef jerky.
A scar on his cheek from a fight with the cops.
The veins on his face looked ready to pop.The butt of a Marlboro clung to his lip
He wore a hip pack full of B-B-Q chips.
He had a fat face and a hairy beer belly.
I aint seen one that big since muh e

One particular Christmas season a long time ago, Santa was getting ready for his
annual trip, but there were problems everywhere. Four of his elves got sick, and
the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones so Santa
was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule. Then Mrs. Claus
told Santa that her mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more.

When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to
give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. More
stress. Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked, and the
toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys. So, frustrated, Santa went
into the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum.

When he went to the cupboard, he discovered that the elves had hidden the
liquor, and there was nothing to drink. In his frustration, he accidentally
dropped the cider pot, and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the
kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw
end of the broom.

Just then the doorbell rang, and irritable Santa trudged to the door. He opened
the door, and there was a little angel with a great Christmas tree.

The angel said, very cheerfully, Merry Christmas, Santa. Isnt it a lovely day?
I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?

Thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

Pause: A short period in an individual voice in which there should be relative quiet. Useful when turning to the next page in the score, breathing, emptying the horn of salvia, coughing, etc. Is rarely heard in baroque music. Today the minimum requirements for pauses in individual pieces are those of the Musicians Union (usually one per bar, or 15 minutes per hour).

Score: A pile of all the individual orchestral voices, transposed to C so that nobody else can understand anything. This is what conductors follow when they conduct, and its assumed that they have studied it carefully. Very few conductors can read a score.

Messiah: An oratorio by Handel performed every Christmas by choirs that believe they are good enough, in cooperation with musicians who need the money.

Gregorian chant: A way of singing in unison, invented by monks to hide snoring.

Atonality: Disease that many modern composers suffer from. The most prominent symptom is the patients lacking ability to make decisions.

Rubato: Expression used to describe irregular behaviour in a performer with sensations of angst in the mating period. Especially common amongst tenors.

English horn: A woodwind that got its name because its neither English nor a horn. Not to be confused with French horn, which is German.