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!
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 canpush 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- weve 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; hes mine, at least that is what he said last night.
Sincerely, Ken
The usual large flamboyant typeface associated with the seasons greetings had been downsized this year commensurate with the trend toward corporate downsizing. [And the fact that SMTP does not support typeface control].
The recent announcement that Donner and Blitzen have elected to take the early reindeer retirement package has triggered a good deal of concern about whether they will be replaced, and about other restructuring at the North Pole.
Streamlining was appropriate in view of the reality that the North Pole no longer dominates the seasons gift distribution business. Home shopping channels and mail order catalogues have diminished Santas market share and he could not sit idly by and permit further erosion of the profit picture.
The reindeer downsizing was made possible through the purchase of a late model Japanese sled for the CEOs annual trip. Improved productivity from Dasher and Dancer, who summered at the Harvard Business School, is anticipated and should take up the slack with no discernible loss of service. Reduction in reindeer will also lessen airborne environmental emissions for which the North Pole has been cited and received unfavorable press.
I am pleased to inform you and yours that Rudolphs role will not be disturbed. Tradition still counts for something at the North Pole. Management denies, in the strongest possible language, the earlier leak that Rudolphs nose got that way not from the cold, but from substance abuse. Calling Rudolph a lush who was into the sauce and never did pull his share of the load was an unfortunate comment, made by one of Santas helpers and taken out of context at a time of year when he is known to be under executive stress.
As a further restructuring, todays global challenges required 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 upgrade 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. The 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 cutback on new music and no uniforms will produce savings which will drop right down to the bottom line.
We can expect a substantial reduction is assorted people, fowl, animals and other expenses. Though incomplete, studies indicate that stretching deliveries over twelve days in inefficient. If we can drop ship in one day, service levels will be improved.
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.
Santa Cluase was arrested yesterday because he blew-up a chlidrens hospital. HE said he did it because he was tired of them damn kids asking for a poney and a bike.Why cant they just ask for a barbie or a toy car like every other kid,and when i get to there place there is no food for me there is a empty plate with crumbs on it and an empty glass with a drop of milk.So I get mad.
A husband and wife are traveling by car from Key West to Boston. After almost
twenty-four hours on the road, theyre too tired to continue, and they decide
to stop for a rest. They stop at a nice hotel and take a room, but they only
plan to sleep for four hours and then get back on the road.
When they check out four hours later, the desk clerk hands them a bill for
$350. The man explodes and demands to know why the charge is so high. He tells
the clerk that although its a nice hotel, the rooms certainly arent worth
$350. When the clerk tells him that $350 is the standard rate, the man insists
on speaking to the manager.
The manager listens to the man and then explains that the hotel has an
Olympic-sized pool and a huge conference center that were available for the
husband and wife to use. He also explains that they could have taken in one of
the shows for which the hotel is famous. The best entertainers from New York,
Hollywood and Las Vegas perform here, explains the manager. No matter what
facility the manager mentions, the man replies, But we didnt use it! The
manager is unmoved and eventually the man gives up and agrees to pay. He
writes a check and gives it to the manager.
The manager is surprised when he looks at the check. But sir, he says, this
check is only made out for $100. Thats right, says the man. I charged
you $250 for sleeping with my wife. But I didnt! exclaims the manager.
Well, the man replies, she was here, and you could have.
Twas the Month after Chanukah
Twas the month after Chanukah, and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies Id nibble, the latkas Id taste
At Chanukah 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 or the egg creams, 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 only I can
You cant spend the winter disguised as a man!
So… away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of all chocolate, each 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 to chew only 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!
Twas the Night Before Christmas: Microsoft Version
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except Papas 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 Santas 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 thats 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 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 Microsofts SANTA that the kids cant resist,
Its 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 Microsofts scheme,
And a merger with Santa is a marketers 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 winters 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.
Ways to Torture Your Roommate at Christmas
Claim you were a Christmas tree in your former life. If s/he tries to bring one into the room, scream bloddy murder and thrash on the floor.
Go to the mall with your roomate and sit on Santas lap. Refuse to get off.
Wear a Santa suit all the time. Deny youre wearing it.
Sit in a corner in the fetal position rocking back and forth chanting, Santa Claus is coming to town, Santa Claus is coming to town…
Hang mistle-toe in the doorway. When your roomate enters or leaves the room, plant a wet one on his/her lips.
Hang a stocking with your roomates name on it. Collect coal and sharp objects in it. If s/he asks, say youve been very naughty this year.
Paint your nose red and wear antlers. Constantly complain about how you never get to join in on the reindeer games.
Make conversation out of Christmas Carols. (I.E. You know, I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus underneath the mistle-toe last night.)
Wrap yourself in Christmas lights and roll around in the snow.
Sing: All I want for Christmas is my roomates two front teeth…
Give your roomate the gifts from the twelve days of Christmas song.
Build a snowperson with your roomate and place a hat on its head. When it doesnt come to life, cry hysterically it didnt work!
Whip your roomate screaming now Dasher, now Dancer, now Donner, and Blitzen, etc.
Tear down all your roomates Christmas decorations yelling Bah Humbug!
Wake up every morning screaming Ghost of Christmas Future, please have mercy on my soul!
Tell your roomate youre moving out. Santas buying you a house on 34th Street.
Pin a pointsetta to your lapel.
Make anatomically correct gingerbread people and eat the best parts first.
Put on a fake white beard and insist that all your roomates friends give it a yank.
Ring jingle bells maniacally saying every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings.
Stand in front of the mirror reciting How the Grinch Stole Christmas over and over in your underwear.
Smoke mistle-toe. Do what comes naturally.
Watch your roomate when s/he is sleeping. When s/he wakes up sing, he sees you when youre sleeping…
Steal a life size nativity scene and display it in your room. When your roomate asks, tell him/her I had to let them stay here, theres no room at the inn.
When your roomate goes to the bathroom, rearrange his/her posessions. Tell him/her that Santas elves must have done it.
Stuffing…
He laid her on the table
So white clean and bare.
His forehead wet with beads of sweat
He rubbed her here and there.
He touched her neck and then her breast
And then drooling felt her thigh.
The slit was wet and all was set,
He gave a joyus cry.
The hole was wide…he looked inside
All was dark and murky.
He rubbed his hands and stretched his arms….
And then he stuffed the turkey.
Once there was this brunette who was driving her corvette with the wind in her hair.
She looked and she saw a farmer with a flock of sheep so she drove over and asked the farmer if I can guess how many sheep in youre flock will you give me a sheep.
The farmer says OK.
The brunette says 485.
The farmer says thats right but if I can guess youre natural hair color can I have my sheep back.
the brunette says OK.
The farmer says blonde.
The brunette says how did you know.
The farmer says you just picked the dog.