12/16/97

[from Funny Pages Mailing List]

OPERATION ORDER 12-97 FOR:  OFFICIAL VISIT OF LTG SANTA CLAUS

1. An official staff visit by LTG Claus is expected at this post on
25 Dec.  The following directives govern activities of all Army
personnel during the visit.

a. Not a creature will stir without permission.  This includes
warrant officers and mice.  Soldiers may obtain special stirring
permits for necessary administrative action through the Battalion
S-1.  Officer stirring permits must be obtained through the Deputy,
Post Plans and Policy Office.

b. All personnel will settle their brains for a long winter nap NLT
2200 hours, 24 December.  Uniform for the nap will be; Pajamas,
Cotton, Light Weight, General Purpose, OG, and Cap, BDU woodland
pattern, with ear flaps in the extended position.  Equipment will be
drawn from the supply room prior to 1900 hours.  While at supply,
all personnel will review their personal hand receipts and sign a
Cash Collection Voucher, DD Form 1131, for all missing items. 
Remember, this is the "season of giving."

c. Personnel will utilize standard "T" ration sugar plums for
visions to dance through their heads.  Sugar plums are available in
"T" ration sundry packs and should be eaten with egg loaf, chopped
ham, and spice cake to ensure maximum visions are experienced.

d. Stockings, Wool, Cushion Sole, will be hung by the chimneys with
care.  Necessary safety precautions will be taken to avoid fires
caused by carelessly hung stockings.  1SG's will submit stocking
handling plans to S-3, Training prior to 0800 hours, 24 Dec.  All
leaders will ensure their subordinate personnel are briefed on the
safety aspects of stocking hanging.

e. At first [sign] of clatter, all personnel will spring from their
beds to investigate and evaluate the cause.  Immediate action will
be taken to tear open the shutters and throw up the window sashes. 
On order OPLAN 7-97 (North Pole), para 6-8 (c)(3), dated 4 March,
this office, takes effect to facilitate shutter tearing and sash
throwing. SDO and all CQs will be familiar with procedures and are
responsible for seeing that no shutters are torn or sashes thrown in
Bldg 9828 prior to the start of official clatter.

f. Prior to 0001, date of visit, all personnel possessing Standard
Target Acquisition and Night Observation (STANO) equipment will be
assigned "wandering eyeball" stations.  The SDNCO will ensure that
these stations are adequately manned even after shutters are torn
and sashes are thrown.

g. The Battalion S-4, in coordination with the National Security
Agency and the Motor Pool will assign on each Sleigh, Miniature, M-24
and eight reindeer, tiny, for use by LTG Claus.  The assigned driver
must have a current sleigh operators license with roof top permit and
evidence of attendance at the winter driving class stamped on his DA
Form 348. Driver must also be able to clearly shout "On Dancer, On
Dancer, etc."

2. LTG Claus will initially enter Bldg 9828 through the dayroom. 
All offices without chimneys will draw Chimney Simulator, M6A2 for
use during the visit.  Draw chimney simulator on DA Form 2765-1 which
will be submitted in four copies to the S-4 prior to 23 Dec. 
Personnel will ensure that chimneys are properly cleaned before
turn-in at the conclusion of visit.

3. Personnel will be rehearsed in the shouting of "Merry Christmas
and Happy New Year" or "Merry Christmas To All and To All a Good
Night." This shout will be given upon termination of the visit. 
Uniformity of shouting is the responsibility of each section NCOIC.

FOR THE COMMANDER

GOODE, U. B., LTC, OD
Executive Officer
+---------------------------------------------+
[from David & Virginia Garrett, via HAND!]

Season's greetings from the family

Dear Darling Son and That Person You Married,

Merry Christmas to you, and please don't worry. I'm just fine
considering I can't breathe or eat.  The important thing is that you
have a nice holiday, thousands of miles away from your ailing
mother. 

I've sent along my last ten dollars in this card, which I hope you'll
spend on my Grandchildren.  Lord knows their mother never buys them
anything nice.  They look so thin in their pictures, poor babies. 
But then, I guess you two do save a lot of money shopping for their
clothes at the Salvation Army surplus stores and all.

Thank you so much for the Christmas flowers, dear boy. I put them in
the freezer so they'll stay fresh for my grave.  Which reminds me --
we buried Grandma last week.  I know she died years ago, but I got to
yearning for a good funeral, so Aunt Viola and I dug her up and had
the services all over again.  I would have invited you, but I know
that woman you live with would never let you come.  Why, I bet she's
never even watched that videotape of my hemorrhoid surgery, has she?

Well son, it's time for me to crawl off to bed now.  I broke my cane
beating off a gang of muggers last week, but don't you worry about
me. I'm also getting used to the cold since they turned my heat off
and actually kind-of grateful since the frost on my bed numbs my
constant pain.  Now don't you even think about sending any more
money, because I know you need it for those expensive family
vacations you take every year; as well as all those designer clothes
your gold-digger demands you buy her.  Give my love to my darling
Grandbabies and my regards to whatever-her-name-is -- the one who
stole you screaming and kicking from a loving home, and dragged you
up to that God forsaken lawless Sodom she calls a state.

Happy New Year. 

Love, 
MOM 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Meadows/1330/20ways.html ]

20 Ways to Confuse Santa

1. Instead of milk and cookies, leave him a salad, and a note
explaining that you think he could stand to lose a few pounds.  

2. While he's in the house, go find his sleigh and write him a
speeding ticket.  

3. Leave him a note, explaining that you've gone away for the
holidays. Ask if he would mind watering your plants.  

4. While he's in the house, replace all his reindeer with exact
replicas. Then wait and see what happens when he tries to get them to
fly.  

5. Keep an angry bull in your living room. If you think a bull goes
crazy when he sees a little red cape, wait until he sees that big,
red Santa suit!  

6. Build an army of mean-looking snowmen on the roof, holding signs
that say "We hate Christmas," and "Go away Santa."  

7. Leave a note by the telephone, telling Santa that Mrs. Claus
called and wanted to remind him to pick up some milk and a loaf of
bread on his way home.  

8. Throw a surprise party for Santa when he comes down the chimney.
Refuse to let him leave until the strippers arrive.   

9. While he's in the house, find the sleigh and sit in it. As soon as
he comes back and sees you, tell him that he shouldn't have missed
that last payment, and take off.  

10. Leave a plate filled with cookies and a glass of milk out, with a
note that says, "For The Tooth Fairy. :)" Leave another plate out
with half a stale cookie and a few drops of skim milk in a dirty
glass with a note that says, "For Santa. :("  

11. Take everything out of your house as if it's just been robbed.
When Santa arrives, show up dressed like a policeman and say, "Well,
well. They always return to the scene of the crime." 

12. Leave out a copy of your Christmas list with last-minute changes
and corrections.  

13. While he's in the house, cover the top of the chimney with barbed
wire.  

14. Leave lots of hunting trophies and guns out where Santa's sure to
see them. Go outside, yell, "Ooh! Look! A deer! And he's got a red
nose!" and fire a gun.  

15. Leave Santa a note, explaining that you've moved. Include a map
with unclear and hard-to-read directions to your new house. 

16. Set a bear trap at the bottom of the chimney. Wait for Santa to
get caught in it, and then explain that you're sorry, but from a
distance, he looked like a bear.  

17. Leave out a Santa suit, with a dry-cleaning bill.  

18. Paint "hoof-prints" all over your face and clothes. While he's in
the house, go out on the roof. When he comes back up, act like you've
been "trampled." Threaten to sue.  

19 Instead of ornaments, decorate your tree with Easter eggs.  

20. Dress up like the Easter Bunny. Wait for Santa to come and then
say, "This neighborhood ain't big enough for the both of us."  
+---------------------------------------------+
[forwarded by Michael A Dimond, via ReHu]

Cyber Gift Suggestions

Are you having a hard time finding the right gift for the computer
adict whose PC has everything?  Not another Dilbert necktie, or
King's Quest XLVIII.  Try one of these.

- CD-ROM rewinder.  (For blondes only.)

- Virtual reality beer.

- NoseBlaster smell card -- the latest in multi-media technology. The
deluxe version comes with direct-feed nostril tubes for the ultimate
in virtual olfactory experience.

- True-Type font modelled on my handwriting.  The last word in
non-reversible encryption.  (May not be exported from the country.)

- 72-inch monitor.

- 20-foot mouse extension cord - a must for the 72-inch monitor.

- Michael Jackson-to-Michael Jackson Morph screen saver -- endless
variations.

- Bedpan -- Why leave your computer just for that?  (Not for use with
NoseBlaster.)

- The secret to what this emoticon means - }:{o
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Just Too Funny!]

A business man got on an elevator in a building. When he entered the
elevator, there was a blonde already inside and she greeted him by
saying "T-G-I-F" (letters only).

He smiled at her, paused thoughtfully, and replied "S-H-I-T"
(letters only).

She looked at him, puzzled, and said "T-G-I-F" again.

He acknowledged her remark again by answering "S-H-I-T".

The blond was trying to be friendly, so she smiled her biggest smile
and said as sweetly as possibly "T-G-I-F" one more another time.

The man smiled back to her and once again replied with an equally
large (phony) smile, "S-H-I-T".

The blond finally decided to explain things, and this time she said,
"T-G-I-F, Thank Goodness Its Friday; get it?".

The man answered, "Sorry Honey, It's Thursday". 
+---------------------------------------------+[from Kitty's Daily Mews]

A Dieters Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all around my hips
were Fanny 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 form 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 in for the night
in the morning I'll starve..'till I take that first bite!
+---------------------------------------------+

[from Greg Singleton, on Rehu]

Gods Rest Ye Unitarians
(sung to the theme of "God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen")

Gods rest ye, Unitarians, let nothing you dismay;
Remember there's no evidence there was a Christmas Day;
When Christ was born is just not known, no matter what they say,
O tidings of reason and fact, reason and fact,
Glad tidings of reason and fact.

Our current Christmas customs came from Persia and from Greece,
>From solstice celebrations of the ancient Middle East.
This whole darn Christmas spiel is just another pagan feast,
O tidings of reason and fact, reason and fact,
Glad tidings of reason and fact.

There was no star of Bethlehem, there was no angels' song;
There could not have been wise men for the trip would take too long.
The stories in the Bible are historically wrong, O tidings of reason
and fact, reason and fact, Glad tidings of reason and fact!
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Kitty's Daily Mews]

Cats' Top Ten Favorite Christmas Songs

10. Up on the Mousetop

 9. Have Yourself a Furry Little Christmas

 8. Joy to the Curled

 7. I Saw Mommy Hiss at Santa Claus

 6. The First Meow

 5. Oh, Come All Ye Fishful

 4. Silent Mice

 3. Fluffy, the Snowman

 2. Jingle Balls

 1. Wreck the Halls!
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Laugh-A-Lot!]

Santa Claus, like all pilots, gets regular visits from the Federal
Aviation Administration, and the FAA examiner arrived last week for
the pre-Christmas flight check.

In preparation, Santa had the elves wash the sled and bathe all the
reindeer.  Santa got his logbook out and made sure all his paperwork
was in order.  He knew they would examine all his equipment and
truly put Santa's flying skills to the test...

The examiner walked slowly around the sled.  He checked the reindeer
harnesses, the landing gear, and Rudolf's nose.  He painstakingly
reviewed Santa's weight and balance calculations for sled's enormous
payload.

Finally, they were ready for the checkride.  Santa got in and
fastened his seatbelt and shoulder harness and checked the compass.
Then the examiner hopped in carrying, to Santa's surprise, a
shotgun.

"What's that for?!?" asked Santa incredulously.

The examiner winked and said, "I'm not supposed to tell you this
ahead of time," as he leaned over to whisper in Santa's ear, "but
you're gonna lose an engine on takeoff."

~~~~~ Sent by Laugh-A-Lot!  - The daily clean-jokes-only list! ~~~~~ 
* Joke Compilations (c)1997; Permission granted to forward, or post 
on other lists/sites; if this notice is fully included, thanks!
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Stan Kegel, via UGA Humor List]

Was he the best pitcher that ever threw a baseball? Back in the
1950s, there were a lot of folks who thought so. Mel Famey of the
Milwaukee Braves was a natural -- a once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon
whose fast ball blew away the best hitters. His 90 MPH curveball
would start out like it was going to hit the batter's ear, only to
break at the last instant and hit the outside corner of the plate for
a strike. His changeup made the best hitters in the league cry --
they would swing, drop the bat, and stare incredulously as the ball
hit the catcher's mitt. He was indeed awesome! Why then, you might
ask, is he not in the Hall of Fame? Why haven't you ever heard of
him? Alas, like many others before him, Mel's downfall was demon
alcohol.

Mel really liked to tilt the glass. His drinking became almost
legendary around the country, but he never let it affect his pitching
until The Braves and the Yankees were in the World Series! Excitement
reigned! The series was tied at three games apiece, and the Braves
were in New York for the seventh and deciding game. The night before
the big event, Mel's thirst got the better of him. He snuck out of
the hotel after curfew, and bought himself two cases of beer. As you
might imagine, the next morning Mel didn't feel too good. But being
the pro that he was, Mel managed to do just fine -- until the bottom
of the ninth inning. With the Braves ahead by one run, two out, and
the bases loaded, Mel's revelry the night before finally caught up to
him. Eight straight pitches -- eight straight balls. He walked in the
tying run and the winning run, thereby, losing the game and the
series. 

After the game, a reporter went to the jubilant Yankee's clubhouse
and spoke to the last two players that faced Mel. "Tell me", he
asked, "to what do you attribute this victory over the best pitcher
in the major leagues"? 

In unison they replied, "It was the beer that made Mel Famey walk
us"! 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Frank Morris' "Be Thankful It's Monday.... Consider The
Alternative"]

THE KEYBOARD RESTAURANT MENU

\&&&&&&&/   Pretzels!

\66666666/   Shrimp!

\********/   Popcorn!

^<**>^  ^<**>^  Hot steamed Maryland blue crabs : )

\_><{{{{">_/   Whole Fish Soup!!
                [Notice how the eyes follow you around the room!]

[::] [::] [::] [::]   Fig Newtons

(#) (#) (#)   Warm Peanut butter cookies

\--------/    Chicken soup for all your sick friends

(@)  (@)  (@)  Fresh Cinnamon Rolls!

OooOOoOooO   Onion  rings

[:::] [:::] [:::]     French toast sticks with powdered sugar

=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D#   Celery 

\__/   \__/   Chinese Take Out

\ ) ) ) ) ) /    (~~~~~)  Chips and Dip

@@@@ (_) (_) (_)   Chocolate Chip cookies and Moo juice ;)

(|=3D=3D=3D|)(|=3D=3D=3D|)   Hot dogs

(m) (m) (_)  (_)  M&M's and Koolaid 

o  o  o  o  o   Single AND O O O O O Double Stuff Oreos!

<) <) <) <) <)    Pizza!

c(__) c(__)   Steaming mugs of hot cocoa! 

      //
 (****)    RootBeer Float!
 \    /
  l__I 

[|||]D  [|||]D    Root Beer!

(_)D (_)D     Freshly brewed coffee!

[_]D [_]D    Ice cold beer!

[Y]   [Y]    Champagne!

\%/		Martini!
+---------------------------------------------+
[forwarded by Nancy M. Piatkowski, on Rehu]

12 Days of Cajun Christmas

Day 1: Dear Boudreaux, Thanks for de bird in de Pear tree.  I fix it
las' night with dirty rice.  I doan tink de pear tree.will grow in
de swamp, so I swap it for a Satsuma.

Day 2: Dear Boudreaux, You letter say you sent two turtle doves, but
all I got was two scrawny pigeons.  Anyway, I mixed dem with
andouille an made some gumbo out of dem.

Day 3: Dear Boudreaux, Why doan you sent some crawfish?  I'm tired
of eating dem darn birds.  I gave two of dose prissy French chickens
to Marie Trahan over at Grans Bayou an fed the tird one to my dog
Phideaux.  Marie needed some sparing partners for her fighting
rooster.

Day 4: Dear Boudreaux, Mon Dieux!  I tol you no more friggin birds. 
Deez four, what you call dem "calling birds" were so noisy you could
hear dem all de way to Napoleonville.  I used dere necks for my crab
traps, an fed de rest of dem to de gators.

Day 5: Dear Boudreaux, You finally sen' somethin useful.  I like dem
golden rings, me.  I hocked dem at da pawn shop in Thibodeaux and got
enuf money to fix da shaft on my shrimp boat an buy a round for da
boys at de Raisin' Cane Lounge.  Merci Beaucoup!

Day 6: Dear Boudreaux, Couchon! Back to da birds, you coonass
turkey! Poor egg suckin' Phideaux is scared to death at dem six
gaeases. He tried to eat dems eggs and dey peck de heck out ah his
snout.  Dey good at eating cockroaches, though.  I may stuff one of
dem wit erster dressing on Christmas day.

Day 7: Dear Boudreaux, I'm gonna wring your fool neck next time I see
you.  Thibeau, da mailman, is ready to kill ya.  The merde from all
dem birds is stinkin' up his mailboat.  He afraid someone will slip
on dat stuff and sue him good.  I let those seven swans loose to swim
on de bayou and some duck hunters from Mississippi blasted dem out of
de water.  Talk to you tomorrow.

Day 8: Dear Boudreaux, poor ole Thibeau, he had to make tree trips on
his mailboat to deliver dem 8 maids a milkin and their cows.  One of
dem cows got spooked by da alligators and almost tipped over da boat.
I doan like dem shiftless maids, me no.  I tolt dem to get to work
guttin fish and sweepinq the shack but dey say it wasn't in dair
contract.  Dey probably think dey too good ta skin nutrias I caught
las night.

Day 9: Dear Boudreaux, What you trying to do huh?  Thibeau had to
borrow the Lutcher ferry to carry dem jumpin twits you call
Lords-a-Leaping across the bayou.  As soon as dey gots here dey
wanted a tea break with crumpets.  I doan know what dat means but I
says, *Well La Di Da.  You get Chicory coffee or nuttin. *  Mon Dieu,
Emile. What I'm gonna feed all dese bozos?  Dey too snooty for fried
nutria, and de cows done eat my turnip greens.

Day 10: Dear Boudreaux, You got to be outs you mind!  If de mailman
don't kill you, I will fo sure.  Today he deliver 10 half nikid
floozies from Bourbon Street.  Dey said dey be *Ladies Dancin* but
dey doan act like ladies in front of dose Limey twits.  Dey almos
left after one of dem got bit by a water moccasin over by da
out-house. I had to butcher 2 cows to feed toute le monde an had to
get toilet paper. The Sears catalog wasn't good enuf fer dose hoity
toity Lords' royal behin.

Day 11: Dear Boudreaux, where y'at?  Cheerio an pip pip.  Your 11
pipers piping arrives today from the House of Blues, second lining
as dey got off de boat.  We fixed snuffed goose and beef jambalaya,
finished da whiskey and we having a fais-do-do.  Da new mailman he
drink a bottle of Jack Daniel an he having a good time yeah dancing
with de floozies.  Thibeau he jump off de Sunshine Bridge yesterday,
screaming your name.  If you get a mysterious, ticking package in de
mail, doan open it.

Day 12: Dear Boudreaux, I sorry to tell ya but I not your true love
anymore, no.  After da fais-do-do, I spent de night with Jacque, de
head piper.  We decide to open a restaurant and gentleman's club on
de bayou.  The floozies, pardon me, Ladies dancing can make $20 for a
table dance, and de Lords can be waiters an valet park de boats.
Since de maids doan have no more cows ta milk, I trained dem ta set
my crab traps, watch my trotlines, an run my shrimping business.  We
will probably gross a million clams nex year. 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from rhett, on Rehu]

The Coming of Word 6.6.6

Word 6.6.6 Coming Soon! If you're unhappy with Word 6, be patient! A
new version of Word 6 is in the works which should take the world by
storm. New programmers have been hired - including the creative
programmers of SATAN security software - to bring you Word 6.6.6,
which you will like and love, even worship - or else. Packed with so
many powerful new features and tools that it can boast of "power
beyond anything in this world," the new program is expected to
require 600 Mb of disk space and at least 66 Mb of RAM for optimum
performance.

Though the software, currently code-named "The Beast," won't be
available until just before the year 2000, Microsoft is already
planning a unique customer service strategy. Registered users will
receive a lifetime serial number for technical support and access to
the Microsoft Global Network. This serial number will be micro
etched with painless laser surgery onto each user's forehead, barely
visible to the human eye but easily scanned by computer. "Who could
ever have predicted such a thing?" beamed the team manager in a
recent interview. "A new computer world order will be upon us. We can
hardly wait."

Highly placed sources in Microsoft say that the computer community
should begin preparing now to ensure that their computers are
optimized ahead of time. "Make the sacrifice now to be ready for the
Beast, or you'll be left behind. The last thing we want is to have
future customers feel that they've been burned." 
+---------------------------------------------+
[MANY versions of this came in - this is the cleanest one.]

The REAL 12 Days of Christmas
[Christmas Thank You Notes]

                              Miss Agnes McHolstein
                              69 Cash Avenue
                              Beaver Valley, Colorado

                              December 14, 1994

Dearest John:
I went to the door today and the postman delivered a partridge in a
pear tree.  What a thoroughly delightful gift and such a lovely
surprise!
                              With deepest love and devotion,
                              Agnes
 -----------------

                              Miss Agnes McHolstein
                              69 Cash Avenue
                              Beaver Valley, Colorado

                              December 15, 1994

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
 -----------------

                              Miss Agnes McHolstein
                              69 Cash Avenue
                              Beaver Valley, Colorado

                              December 16, 1994

Dearest John:
Oh aren't you the extravagant one!  I really must protest.  I don't
deserve such generosity - 3 French hens.  They are adorable but I must
insist - please, you've been much too kind.

                              Love,
                              Agnes
 -----------------

                              Miss Agnes McHolstein
                              69 Cash Avenue
                              Beaver Valley, Colorado

                              December 17, 1994

Dear John,
Today the postman delivered 4 calling birds.  Now really,
they are beautiful but don't you think enough is enough.
You're being too romantic.

                              Affectionately,
                              Agnes
 -----------------

                              Miss Agnes McHolstein
                              69 Cash Avenue
                              Beaver Valley, Colorado

                              December 18, 1994

Dearest John:
What a wonderful surprise.  Today the postman delivered 5 golden
rings.  One for every finger.  You're impossible but I love it!
Frankly, all those birds were beginning to get on my nerves.

                              All my love,
                              Anges
 -----------------
                              Miss Agnes McHolstein
                              69 Cash Avenue
                              Beaver Valley, Colorado

                              December 19, 1994

Dear John:
When I opened the door there were actually 6 geese a-laying
on my front steps.  So, you're back to the birds again, huh?
Those 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
 -----------------

                              Miss Agnes McHolstein
                              69 Cash Avenue
                              Beaver Valley, Colorado

                              December 20, 1994

John:
What is it with you and these frigging birds?!!  Seven
Swans-a-Swimming?!!  Are you kidding?!  What kind of sick joke is
this?  There's bird poop all over the house and the incessant honking
is driving me nuts.  I can't sleep at night - I'm a nervous wreck.
It's not funny, so stop with the crummy birds.

                              Sincerely,
                              Agnes
 -----------------

                              Miss Agnes McHolstein
                              69 Cash Avenue
                              Beaver Valley, Colorado

                              December 21, 1994

O.K. Buster:
I think I prefer the birds - what the heck am I going to do with 8
maids-a-milking?!  It's not enough that the good for nothing postman
delivered 8 maids to join those miserable birds, but he brought their
cows as well!  There is manure all over my house and I can't take a
safe step any more!  I have a splitting headache, thank you very much.

                              Just lay off me smart guy,
                              Agnes
p.s. I hocked the rings to buy bird food and hay.
 -----------------

                              Miss Agnes McHolstein
                              69 Cash Avenue
                              Beaver Valley, Colorado

                              December 22, 1994

You Mullethead!!
What are you some kind of sadist?  That rotten postman delivered 9
pipers playing, and I do mean playing - they've been playing around
with the maids since they arrived.  The cows are getting upset and
they're stepping all over those screeching birds!!!  What am I going
to do? The neighbors are talking eviction.  I'm sicking the police on
you.
                              You'll get yours,
                              Agnes

 -----------------
                              Miss Agnes McHolstein
                              69 Cash Avenue
                              Beaver Valley, Colorado

                              December 23, 1994

You Rotten Jerk,
Yes I received your latest gift delivered by your partner in this
devious plot - the postman.  Ten ladies dancing - Hah Hah, ver-r-r-y
funny.  I don't know why I call those tramps ladies - they've been
mauling the pipers all night long.  My livingroom is a lake of manure
and bird crap. The Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to give
cause why this building shouldn't be condemned.

I'm sicking the police on you.

                              One who means it.
 -----------------

                              Miss Agnes McHolstein
                              69 Cash Avenue
                              Beaver Valley, Colorado

                              December 24, 1994

Listen Meathead,
Oh yes- that postman- that devil in postal uniform- delivered the
eleven loards-a-leaping-- you sicko.  And they have been leaping - yes
sir.  On the maids, the ladies, on anything that moves!!  They ran
through the maids and ladies and then went on to roping the cows!!!
All 23 birds are dead.  They were trampled to death during the rodeo.
I hope you're happy you rotten vicious swine.  I'm working on a
revenge for you and your delivery buddy.

                              Your sworn enemy,
                              Agnes
 -----------------

                              Law Offices
                              Badger, Bender and Cahole
                              303 Knave Street
                              Chicago, Illinois

                              December 25, 1994

Dear Sir:
This is to acknowledge the receipt of your gift of 12 fiddlers
fiddling, which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes
McWholestein.  The destruction, of course, was complete.  The postman
is slowly recovering from the unfortunate attack he received at the
hands of  Miss McWholestein upon receipt of the fiddlers, although he
remains terrified of Christmas deliveries.  All further correspondence
should come to our attention.  Should you attempt to contact Miss
McWholestein at Spring Shadows Glen Sanitarium, the attendants have
instructions to shoot you on site.

                              Cordially,
                              Badger, Bender and Cahole
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Dave Wigley, on Rehu]

LAWS OF PHYSICS

GRAND PRIZE WINNER

When a cat is dropped, it always lands on its feet, and when toast
is dropped, it always lands with the buttered side facing down. I
propose to strap buttered toast to the back of a cat; the two will
hover, spinning inches above the ground. With a giant buttered cat
array, a high-speed monorail could easily link New York with Chicago.

RUNNERS-UP:

#1 If an infinite number of rednecks riding in an infinite number of
pickup trucks fire an infinite number of shotgun rounds at an
infinite number of highway signs, they will eventually produce all
the world's great literary works in Braille.

#2 Why Yawning Is Contagious: You yawn to equalize the pressure on
your eardrums. This pressure change outside your eardrums unbalances
other people's ear pressures, so they must yawn to even it out.

#3 Communist China is technologically underdeveloped because they
have no alphabet and therefore cannot use acronyms to communicate
ideas at a faster rate.

#4 The earth may spin faster on its axis due to deforestation. Just
as a figure skater's rate of spin increases when the arms are brought
in close to the body, the cutting of tall trees may cause our planet
to spin dangerously fast.

HONORABLE MENTION:

#1 Birds take off at sunrise. On the opposite side of the world,
they are landing at sunset. This causes the earth to spin on its
axis.

#2 The reason hot-rod owners raise the backs of their cars is that
it's easier to go faster when you're always going downhill. Besides,
they get better gas mileage that way.

#3 The quantity of consonants in the English language is constant.
If omitted in one place, they turn up in another. When a Bostonian
"pahks" his "cah," the lost r's migrate southwest, causing a Texan
to "warsh" his car and invest in "erl wells . 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Les Pourciau, via UGA Humor List]

  1.  Quadruped with Crimson Proboscis
  2.  Eight pm to six am without noise
  3.  Miniscule Hamlet in the Near East
  4.  Benevolent Despot
  5.  Adorn the Vestibule
  6.  Exuberence Directed to the Planet
  7.  Listen! Aeriel Spirits Announcing
  8.  Trio of Monarchs
  9.  Yonder in the Hayrack
  10. Cherubins, Audited from Aloft
  11. Assemble, Everyone who Believes
  12. Hallowed, Post Meridiem
  13. A Combination of All Colors on Dec. 25
  14. Tintinabulaton
  15. A Dozen 24 Hour Yule Periods
  16. Befell During the Translucent Bewitching Hour
  17. Homo Sapien of Crystalized Vapor
  18. I Desire a Pair of Incisors on Dec. 25
  19. I Espied My Maternal Parent Osculating St. Nick
  20. Perambulating Through a Dec. Solstice Fantasy

Answers:
 1.  Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer
 2.  Silent Night
 3.  O Little Town of Bethlehem
 4.  Good King Wenseslas
 5.  Deck the Halls
 6.  Joy to the World
 7.  Hark the Herald Angels Sing
 8.  We Three Kings of Orient Are
 9.  Away in a Manger
10.  Angels we have heard on high
11.  Come all ye Faithful
12.  O Holy Night
13.  White Christmas
14.  Jingle Bells
15.  12 days of Christmas
16.  It came upon a midnight clear
17.  Frosty the Snowman
18.  All I want for Christmas are my two front teeth
19.  I saw momma kissing Santa Claus
20.  Walking in a Winter Wonderland
+---------------------------------------------+
[from the Jewish Humor List]

A delightful Chanukah game is a put-and-take game played with a
four-sided top (a draydl or trendel), using nuts for the betting. The
draydl is marked with four Hebrew letters: nun, gimel, hay, and shin
-- the initial letters of the Hebrew words meaning "a great miracle
took place there" (Nes Gadol Haya Sham). The letters also stand for
the Yiddish words nem (take), gib (give), halb (half) and shtell
(put) -- which provide all the instructions needed.

                 ~The Joys of Yiddish, by Leo Rosten

I have gleaned the following verses from the Jewish Song Leaders'
list and friends... Enjoy! Happy Chanukah! Ilana Rosansky

~~~
from: Rabbi Robert E Scheinberg <roscheinberg@juno.com>
United Synagogue of Hoboken, NJ
Some of these were written years ago by Pizmon - Columbia University's
Jewish acappella group; others were composed by 5th- and 6th graders
in Hoboken.

I have a little dreidel
I made it out of clay
and when it's dry and ready
oh dreidel I shall play.

I have a little dreidel
I made it out of plastic
if someone steals my dreidel
I'll do something very drastic.

I have a little dreidel
I made it out of snow
but when I looked last summer
my dreidel!  Where'd it go?

I have a little dreidel
I made it out of gold
and if you give me money
to you it will be sold.

I have a little dreidel
I made it out of wood
but I set it on fire -
now it don't spin so good.

Judas Maccabeus
he fought against the Greeks
a drop of oil lasted
for 1.14 weeks.

We take our Hanukkah candles
and put them in the menorah
and if you don't know how
look it up in the Gemorah.

I threw away my dreidel
That shouldn't make you fret
I'm done with playing dreidel
I've moved up to roulette!

Christmas decorations
for us are quite extraneous--
'cause Hanukkah's not Christmas
although they're simultaneous.

~~~
Sender: joanna2@pop3.concentric.net
How about these: (First one I heard from Doug Cotler, the rest I made
up) I use these every year and sometimes have the kids make up their
own verses.

I have a little dreidel, I made it out of bread,
It looked so very yummy, I ate it up instead!
Oh dreidel...

I have a little dreidel, I made it out of glass,
My mom says I can spin it, but only on the grass!
Oh dreidel...

I have a little dreidel, it's made out of a shoe,
It smells a little funny, but then what can you do?
Oh dreidel...

I have a little dreidel, I made it out of fur,
It was warm and cute and cuddly, and the spinning made it purr!
Oh dreidel...

~~~
A friend sent this. She says that some years ago her chavurah got
together and composed several additional verses. The one she remembers
best:

I have a little dreidel
I made it out of ham
It surely isn't kosher
But at least it isn't spam!

~~~
Okay, now these are the ones by Owen Lorian:

I have a little dreidel
I made it out of peatmoss.
It spins and spin and spins,
Then "peat"ers to a stop.

I have a little dreidel
I made it out of wood
For me it always lands on nun
Or at least I think it should

I have a little dreidel
I made it out of lead
So when Mama isn't looking
I can bop my brother's head

I have a little dreidel
I spin it like a top
And then I bet my nuts
On where it's going to stop

I have a little dreidel
It's as cute as it can be
I made it from an oyster shell
I found beside the sea.

I have a little dreidel
It's saturate with ether
But every time I play with it
I fall asleep till E/a/s/t/e/r/ Purim?

I have a little dreidel
I made it out of stone,
And if I spin it fast enough
It makes the nicest tone.

I have a little dreidel
I made it out of iron
And if I spin it REALLY fast
It sounds just like a siren.

I have TWO little dreidels
Made of aluminum.
If you spin them near the candles
They will illumin 'em.

I have this little dreidel
I made it on my own.
Won't you play it with me?
It's not much fun alone.

~~~
This next batch is by arabinow@umaryland.edu (Adam Rabinowitz)

I had a little dreidle, 
I made it out of air,
But then I turned around,
and POOF, it wasn't there.

I have a little dreidle, 
I made it out of latkes,
I always love Hannukah,
to get me some new chachkes.

I have a little dreidle, 
I made out of gefilte fish,
served with some chrain,                 [horseradish]
It will make a tasty dish.

I had a little dreidle,
made out of soufganyot,                 [donuts] 
I got a little hungry,
And it went down my throat.

I have a little dreidle,
I made out of cream cheese,
Schmere it on a bagel, 
with onions if you please.

I am a little dreidle,
I made it out of me,
you can do it too,
if you don't mind being dizzy 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Swedie, on Rehu]

Yesterday I was in the waiting room at my podiatrist's. They're 
heavily into the Christmas season there.

At the reception desk, there's a tray with cookies and candies. The
selections feature decorated sugar cookies in the shape of feet.

An elderly woman came out, and, as she was making her next
appointment, oohed and aahed over the cookies. They were the cutest
things she'd ever seen. "Where did they ever get that great idea?"
she asked.

"I don't know," I chimed in, "but thank God he isn't a proctologist!"

The lady started laughing and didn't stop. She was still laughing
when she went out the door. It made my day! :) 
+---------------------------------------------+
[by Frederick Silver, to be sung in a parody of a soprano opera 
singer]

The 12 Days AFTER Christmas

The first day after Christmas
My true love and I had a fight.
And so I chopped
The pear tree down
And burned it just for spite!
Then with a single cartridge
I shot that blasted partridge
My true love
My true love
My true love gave to me.

The second day after Christmas
I put on me old rubber gloves
And very gently
Wrung the necks
Of both the turtledoves
My true love
My true love
My true love gave to me.

The third day after Christmas
My mother caught the croup
I had to use
The three French hens
To make her chicken soup.

The four calling birds were a big mistake
For their language was obscene
The five golden rings were completely fake
And they turned my fingers green!
My true love
My true love
My true love gave to me.

The sixth day after Christmas
The six laying geese wouldn't lay
I gave the whole 
Darn gaggle to
The A.S.P.C.A.
My true love
My true love
My true love gave to me.

The seventh day what a mess I found!
All seven of the swimming swans had drowned!
My true love
My true love
My true love gave to me.

The eighth day after Christmas
Before they could suspect
I bundled up
The:
        eight maids a-milking
        nine pipers piping
        ten ladies dancing
        eleven lords a-leaping
        twelve drummers drumming
[well, actually I kept one of the drummers]
And sent them back COLLECT!

I wrote my true love
"We are THROUGH, love!"
And I said in so many words
Furthermore your Christmas gifts are for the BIRDS!

[four calling birds, 
three French hens, 
two turtledoves 
and a partridge in a pear tree....]
+---------------------------------------------+
[forwarded by Brian]

 The 12 Days of Technology Before Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

A database with a broken b-tree 
	(what the hell is a b-tree anyway?)

On the second day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Two transceiver failures 
	(CRC errors? Collisions? What is going on?)
And a database with a broken b-tree 
	(Rebuild WHAT? It's a 10GB database!)

On the third day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Three French users 
	(who, of course, think they know everything)
Two transceiver failures 
	(which are now spewing packets all over the net)
And a database with a broken b-tree 
	(Backup? What backup?)

On the fourth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Four calls for support 
	(playing the same Christmas song over and over)
Three French users 
	(Why do they like to argue so much over trivial things?)
Two transceiver failures 
	(How the hell do I know which ones they are?)
And a database with a broken b-tree 
	(Pointer error? What's a pointer error?)

On the fifth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Five golden SCSI contacts 
	(Of course they're better than silver!)
Four support calls 
	(Ever notice how time stands still when on hold?
Three French users 
	(No, we don't have footpedals on PC's. Why do you ask?)
Two transceiver failures 
	(If I knew which ones were bad, I would know which ones to fix!)
And a database with a broken b-tree 
	(Not till next week? Are you nuts?!?!)

On the sixth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Six games a-playing 
	(on the production network, of course!)
Five golden SCSI contacts 
	(What do you mean "not terminated!")
Four support calls 
	(No, don't transfer me again - do you HEAR? Damn!)
Three French users 
	(No, you cannot scan in by putting the page to the screen...)
Two transceiver failures 
	(I can't look at the LEDs - they're in the ceiling!)
And a database with a broken b-tree 
	(Norway? That's where this was written?)

On the seventh day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Seven license failures 
	(Expired? When?)
Six games a-playing 
	(Please stop tying up the PBX to talk to each other!)
Five golden SCSI contacts 
	(What do you mean I need "wide" SCSI?)
Four support calls 
	(At least the Muzak is different this time...)
Three French Users 
	(Well, monsieur, there really isn't an "any" key, but...)
Two transceiver failures 
	(SQE? What is that? If I knew I would set it myself!)
And a database with a broken b-tree 
	(No, I really need to talk to Lars - NOW!)

On the eighth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Eight MODEMs dialing 
	(Who bought these? They're a security violation!)
Seven license failures 
	(How many WEEKS to get a license?)
Six games a-playing 
	(What do you mean one pixel per packet on updates?!?)
Five golden SCSI contacts 
	(Fast SCSI? It's supposed to be fast, isn't it?)
Four support calls 
	(I already told them that! Don't transfer me back - DAMN!)
Three French users 
	(No, CTL-ALT-DEL is not the proper way to end a program)
Two transceiver failures 
	(What do you mean "babbling transceiver"?)
And a database with a broken b-tree 
	(Does anyone speak English in Oslo?)

On the ninth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Nine lady executives with attitude 
	(She said do WHAT with the servers?)
Eight MODEMs dialing 
	(You've been downloading WHAT?)
Seven license failures 
	(We sent the P.O. two months ago!)
Six games a-playing 
	(HOW many people are doing this to the network?)
Five golden SCSI contacts 
	(What do you mean two have the same ID?)
Four support calls 
	(No, I am not at the console - I tried that already.)
Three French users 
	(No, only one floppy fits at a time? Why do you ask?)
Two transceiver failures 
	(Spare? What spare?)
And a database with a broken b-tree 
	(No, I am trying to find Lars! L-A-R-S!)

On the tenth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Ten SNMP alerts flashing 
	(What is that Godawful beeping?)
Nine lady executives with attitude 
	(No, it used to be a mens room? Why?)
Eight MODEMs dialing 
	(What Internet provider? We don't allow Internet here!)
Seven license failures 
	(SPA? Why are they calling us?)
Six games a-playing 
	(No, you don't need a graphics accelerator for Lotus! )
Five golden SCSI contacts 
	(You mean I need ANOTHER cable?)
Four support calls 
	(No, I never needed an account number before...)
Three French users 
	(When the PC sounds like a cat, it's a head crash!)
Two transceiver failures 
	(Power connection? What power connection?)
And a database with a broken b-tree 
	(Restore what index pointers?)

On the eleventh day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Eleven boards a-frying 
	(What is that terrible smell?) 
Ten SNMP alerts flashing 
	(What's a MIB, anyway? What's an extension?) 
Nine lady executives with attitude 
	(Mauve? Our computer room tiles in mauve?) 
Eight MODEMs dialing 
	(What do you mean you let your roommate dial-in?) 
Seven license failures 
	(How many other illegal copies do we have?!?!) 
Six games a-playing 
	(I told you - AFTER HOURS!)
Five golden SCSI contacts 
	(If I knew what was wrong, I wouldn't be calling!) 
Four support calls 
	(Put me on hold again and I will slash your credit rating!) 
Three French users 
	(Don't hang your floppies with a magnet again!) 
Two transceiver failures 
	(How should I know if the connector is bad?) 
And a database with a broken b-tree 
	(I already did all of that!)

On the twelfth day of Christmas, technology gave to me:

Twelve virtual pipe connections 
	(There's only supposed to be two!)
Eleven boards a-frying 
	(What a surge suppressor supposed to do, anyway?)
Ten SNMP alerts flashing 
	(From a distance, it does kinda look like XMas lights.)
Nine lady executives with attitude 
	(What do you mean aerobics before backups?)
Eight MODEMs dialing 
	(No, we never use them to connect during business hours.)
Seven license failures 
	(We're all going to jail, I just know it.)
Six games a-playing 
	(No, no - my turn, my turn!)
Five golden SCSI contacts 
	(Great, just great! Now it won't even boot!)
Four support calls 
	(I don't have that package! How did I end up with you!)
Three French users 
	(I don't care if it is sexy, no more nude screen backgrounds!)
Two transceiver failures 
	(Maybe we should switch to token ring...)
And a database with a broken b-tree 
	(No, operator - Oslo, Norway. We were just talking and were cut 
off...)
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Kitty's Daily Mews]

Jingle Bells

Jingle Bells Jingle Bells
The kids all yell and scream
To us it sounds like anarchy
But to them it's harmony-HEY!

Jingle Bells Jingle Bells
The children tipped the tree
Antique ornaments smashed to bits
The kids each say "not me"

Dad goes to work each day
Engineering things for flight
But his real job is at home
Refereeing little fights

Mom drives the kids around
In an ancient Caravan
Karate, swimming, children's choir
Espresso in her hand-HEY!

Jingle Bells Jingle Bells
Jingle all the way
Our wish to you is that you have
A...Happy...Holi-dayyyyyyyyy.
+---------------------------------------------+
[by Marlys Justice, via Bill's Punch Line]

'Twas the week before Christmas
  When all through the choir,
Not a creature was silent - 
  We were down to the wire.

The altos were flipping
  Each page in their books,
In hopes they'd remember
  Without any looks.

The sopranos were sitting up
  Straight in their seats,
While visions of memory loss
  Gave them cold feet.

The tenors were humming
  The basses were too,
Each wishing the cantata
  Were over and through.

When out in the lot
  There arose such a clatter
I sprang from my seat
  To see what was the matter.

Away to the foyer
  I flew in despair,
Threw open the back door
  And peered down the stair.

When what to my wondering
  Eyes should appear,
But a beat up jalopy-
  Our director was here.

He was dressed all in white
  In his tailor-made suit,
With a matching white scarf,
  Matching socks, matching boots.

With a glance and a wave
  And a confident grin,
I knew in a moment
  We'd be here past ten.

More rapid than eagles
  To the choir loft he came;
And he whistled and shouted
  And called us by name:

Now Connie! Now, Betty!
  Now, Katie and Ann!
On, David! On, Peter!
  On, Robert and Dan!

To the top of the pitch,
  To the top of the note!
Sing higher! Sing higher!
  Not down in your throat!

The stump of a pencil
  He held tight in his teeth,
"Those pitches! We missed 'em!
  Just awful! Good grief!"

His eyes - they looked worried,
  His cheeks - they were puffed;
His forehead was wrinkled;
  His nose - he turned up.

His droll little mouth
  Was turned down in a frown,
And his head he was shaking
  As he looked all around.

The glare of his eye
  His pacing and mumbling,
Soon gave us to know
  Our parts we were bumbling.

He spoke not a word
  But gave the organ its cue;
We sang way past ten
  And by one we were through.

Then clutching his fist
  In front of his heart,
He whispered a prayer
  And began to depart.

He descended the stairs
  And walked to his car,
He pulled out quite slowly - 
  He seemed rather jarred.

But I heard him exclaim
  Ere he drove out of sight,
"This choir is the greatest!
  They'll sing it just right!"
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Bill's Punch Line, off the "Twisted Christmas" CD - see below]

"The Restroom Door Said Gentlemen" 

(Tune: "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen")

The restroom door said "Gentleman"
And so I walked inside
I took two steps and realized
I'd been taken for a ride
I heard high voices, turned
and found the place was occupied
By two nuns three old ladies and a nurse
What could be worse
Than two old nuns, three old ladies and a nurse

The restroom door said "gentlemen"
It must have been a gag
As soon as I walked in there
I saw an old hag
She sprayed my with a can of mace
And slapped me with her bag
I could tell this just wouldn't be my day
What can I say.
This just wasn't turning out to be my day

The restroom door said "gentlemen"
And I would like to find
That crummy little creep
Who had the nerve to switch the sign
'Cause I have two black eyes
And one big bruise on my behind
So I can't sit with comfort and joy
Boy oh boy
No, I'll never sit with comfort and joy.

---
This song is from the CD Twisted Christmas. The artist is Bob Rivers
Comedy Corp. The label is Critique Records Inc. 400 Main ST.  Reading
MA 01867

The other songs on this CD are

the twelve pains of christmas
the chimney song
we wish you weren't living with us
wreck the malls
a visit from st. nicholson
o come all ye grateful dead-heads
i'm dressin' up like santa (when I get out on parole)
the restroom door said gentlemen
foreigners
joy to the world
a message from the king
+---------------------------------------------+
RUDOLPH'S NIGHT OFF
        by Baxter Black

"Twas the night before Christmas and Rudolph was lame!
The vet from the North Pole said, "Footrot's to blame
I'll give him some sulfa, it's the best I can do
But stall rest is needed the next week or two."
"Great Scott!" cried old Santy, he turned with a jerk.
I won't git through Pierre if my headlight don't work!
On Interstate 40 I'll surely get fined
And lost in Montana if I'm flying blind!"

"No cop in his right mind would give any clout
To a geezer who claimed that his reindeer went out!"
He gathered the others, ol' Donner and Blitzen.
Were any among 'em whose nose was tranmitzen?
They grunted and strained and made sure made a mess
But no noses glowed brightly or ears luminesced.
"It's bad luck in bunches," cried Santy, distressed.
"We'll fly Continental, the Red Eye express!

"I'll just check the schedule," he put on his glasses
When up stepped ol' Billy, the goat from Lampasas.
He shivered and shook like a mouse on the Ark
But his horns were a beacon...They glowed in the dark!
Santy went crazy!  He asked "Why?" with a smile
"I just ate a watch with a radium dial!
Where I come from in Texas we don't have thick hide
So my skin is so thin it shines through from inside."

If that's true then let's feed him!" cried Santy with glee
"Gather everything burnin' and bring it to me!"
So Billy ate flashbulbs and solar collectors,
Electric eels and road sign reflectors,
Firecracker sparklers, a Lady Schick shaver
And Lifesavers, all of 'em wintergreen flavor,
Jelly from phosphorescellous fish,
Day Glow pizza in a glittering dish,

Fireflies and candles and stuff that ignites,
Then had him a big bowl of Northering Lights!
He danced on the rug and petted the cat
And after he'd finished and done all of that
To store up the static 'lectricity better
They forced him to eat two balloons and a sweater!
Then he opened his mouth, light fell on the floor
Like a fridge light comes on when you open the door!

His Halloween smile couldn't be better drawn
When he burped accidently, his high beams kicked on!
Hitch him up!" cried ol' Santy, and they went on their way.
I remember that Christmas to this very day.
The sky was ablaze with the stars shining bright.
They were shooting and falling all through the night.
And I realize now, though my fingers are crossed
What I really was seein'... was ol' Billy's exhaust!
+---------------------------------------------+
[from HAND!]

       TOP 10 USES FOR HOLIDAY FRUITCAKES:

10. Use slices to balance that wobbly kitchen table.

9. Use instead of sand bags during El Nino.

8. Send to U.S. Air Force, let troops drop them.

7. Use as railroad ties.

6. Use as speed bumps to foil the neighborhood drag racers.

5. Collect ten and use them as bowling pins.

4. Use instead of cement shoes.

3. Save for next summer's garage sale.

2. Use slices in next skeet-shooting competition.

1. Two words: pin cushion.
+---------------------------------------------+
[from HAND!]

NASA NEWS
National Aeronautics and Space Administration

John F. Kennedy Space Center
Kennedy Space Center, Florida 32899
                                        For Release:
Joel Wells                              Dec. 18, 1996

KSC Release No. 150 - 96

SANTA HAS NASA'S GREEN LIGHT TO USE SHUTTLE LANDING FACILITY

The Kennedy Space Center's Shuttle Landing Facility will again be
available for emergency landings by venerable old Saint Nick should
problems develop during his annual visit to the world's children. 
This continues a tradition established shortly after the opening of
the SLF in the 1970s.

The SLF was completed in the late 1970s as part of the center's
buildup for Space Shuttle operations.  The 15,000-foot-long,
300-foot-wide landing strip is among the world's largest and could
provide a welcome haven for Santa Claus in the event of reindeer
problems or mechanical difficulties with his new, high-tech sleighs.

Santa has gone to high-tech, state-of-the-art sleighs in recent years
due to the increasing population of kids and the greater workload this
has imposed.  His reindeer aren't getting any younger, either, and the
new, lighter sleighs are made of advanced composite materials to
lighten their burden.

Space Shuttle orbiters are guided to precision landings at the
Spaceport's SLF by a Tactical Air Navigation (TACAN) system and
Microwave Scanning Beam Landing System (MSBLSS).  Santa has equipped
his new sleighs with flight units capable of establishing contact with
them should a landing here be necessary.

Other recent improvements include improved brakes, enhanced nose
runner steering and braking parachute. Santa has also incorporated
stealth technology into the new designs to reduce their radar
profiles.  "I have to make deliveries in countries that are not at
peace with one another," said Claus.  "Even though the kids have
behaved themselves, some of the grown-ups' anti-aircraft  guns still
pose a threat to my reusable launch vehicle."

No government expense is involved in making the SLF available to Saint
Nick on Christmas Eve.  No personnel will be on duty and the automated
landing systems will be left on in the automatic mode.

Has Santa ever had to make a forced landing at KSC?

"We have no actual proof," commented an SLF manager, who spoke only
with assurances of anonymity.  "But the morning after a real cold
Christmas several years ago we found a twisted sleigh runner we've
never been able to account for."
+---------------------------------------------+
[from david jeffries, via UGA Humor List]

TWEEZE DENIED BEEF WORKER ISTHMUS


Tweeze denied beef worker isthmus, winnow Trudy how's,
Snot agreed juries during, gnaw Tiffany moss.
This talking swear unbided Gemini wit cairn
Hint opus scenic (alas!) sinewy dare.
Unjelled runner nozzle tools smuggling deer butts
Well fissions unshoe kerplunks thence endear huts.
Anemometer cur chiffon dyeing mayhap,
Adjust subtle warp reins fairy loin winger snap.
Winnow taunted launderer roast sachet glitter
Ice brine bromide bet deucey woodwinds schemata.
Await Tudor widower blue lacking flesh,
Door roping tier shatters untrue hump these ash.
Demonian depressed often knew felines know
Gaffe cholesterol metier due abjects elope.
Wane wood tummy wandering ice shittah pear,
Vital men etchers lay mandate tidy Rainier.
Whittle it whole dolt river salival equipt,
Sinewy mom aunt isthmus bee-stain nicked.
Mere rabbit-torn evils whose gorses became
Any weaseled end shuttered, uncool tomboy maim.
"Node azure! No Dunce era! No France urine fixing!
Uncommit! And cubit! Andante ran vexing!
Toady tipoff deport chew detypify well!
Gnaw dish aweigh, dish aweigh, dish aweigh awl!"
Asked relieves dot beef forty whiled hurry queen fry,
Wind emit wooden apse stickle, mountie-desk eye,
Sew-up two-deep how stop duck horsers dubloon,
Witty slave fallow toils, ascend nickel loss due.
Ant tending at weakling - why hurt honor roof?
A brain sinning Boeing effete shiney huff.
Aside ruin mayhap untwist darning neuron
Bounding gym knee-scent knick (alas!) game winning pound.
Iwis tressed woolen furze promise etuis food,
Anus closed whorled varnished wood asses in suits.
Abound olived oils (egad!) flunk honor speck,
Any luck lockup addler chest (hope?) nimbus peck.
Assai Saudi twin calloused temples amore!
Exchequer lachryosis, whizz snows locket jury.
Estrual litter mouse wash thrown applique beau,
Amdahl biered honest Genesis weight hostess know.
Distempered ape pie pea yelled tiding is steed,
Undies mocha answer cul de sac lackey reed.
Egad! Abroad fastener litter hound bully
Achoo! quaintly left, lacking bull feeling jolly.
Iwis champion blimp -- arrayed chilly wool delve,
Any left whinney sow hymn, enspied off Moselle.
An oink office sigh unto whist office hood
Swoon gamey tonneau ahead knitting two tread.
Ease poke naught award, Beduoin strayed duets orc,
Infield eldest tuggings; interned witty chert,
End lioness fanger a sight office gnus,
Ant gibbon unknot, upon chimpanzee rows.
Hasp Rangoon is lay, due esteem guava wistful,
Ending weight day elf loo, lacking town ova tassle;
Buddy herding explain air hedge rowboat design,
"Hopping rich musty woolen due awl incondite!"
+---------------------------------------------+
[from http://www.nmt.edu/humor/xmas/fix.the.budget ]

WE WISH YOU WOULD FIX THE BUDGET
by Billy Gnosis and Gaijin

We wish you would fix the budget
We wish you would fix the budget
We wish you would fix the budget
For this fiscal year.

Impeachment we bring
To you and your kin
We wish you would fix the budget
Then get out of here.

We all like a balanced budget
We all like a balanced budget
We all like a balanced budget
And a guy who's sincere.

The Whitewater deal
Has gotten surreal
Can you please stop the scandal
Then get out of here?

You cant play the saxaphone, Bill
You cant play the saxaphone, Bill
You cant play the saxaphone, Bill
We cover our ears.

When Hillary's here
You live life in fear
Your cat's got more morals
Than you do, it's clear.

You wont get re-elected
You wont get re-elected
You wont get re-elected
Youll be gone in two years!

We wish you would fix the budget
We wish you would fix the budget
We wish you COULD fix the budget
Now get out of here.
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Roshan's Humour List]

COURT CHRISTMAS

A supposedly true story...

In a local county courthouse the Clerk of Court hated fake Christmas
trees, so he always put up a real tree in the Clerk's office every
year.  One year the Fire Marshal happened to do a building inspection
of the courthouse just before Christmas, while the Clerk was out to
lunch, and noticed the tree.  In the belief that the tree represented
a fire hazard, he proceeded to write a citation for a violation of the
fire code, which prohibited "live" trees in a public building, and
gave it to the Clerk's assistant.

When the Clerk returned from lunch and was given the citation, he hit
the roof.  Determined that no Fire Marshal was going to spoil his
Christmas, he decided to fight the citation.  So he went to the morgue
in the adjoining police station, and asked the Coroner for his help.
The Coroner came over and put a toe tag on the tree, listing the cause
of death as "Being cut off at ground level".

The Clerk called the Fire Marshal back to re-inspect, and showed him
the toe tag on the tree.  He told him that when the Coroner pronounces
something "dead," it is *legally* dead, and therefore the citation for
having a "live" tree was obviously in error, and wasn't worth the
paper it was written on.

The Fire Marshal thought about it, and came to the realization that,
since he would have to pursue the fire code violation in that very
courtroom, this was probably one argument he wasn't going to win.  So
he let them have their tree.

THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT TRIUMPHS OVER THE GRINCHES OF THE WORLD ONCE
AGAIN!
+---------------------------------------------+
[from "Just Too Funny!"]

On the first day of Christmas my true love said to me
I'm glad we've bought a turkey and a proper Christmas tree. 

On the second day of Christmas much laughter could be heard
As we tucked into our turkey - a most delicious bird. 

On the third day of Christmas we'd friends in from next door
The turkey tasted just as good as on the day before. 

On the fourth day of Christmas Gran came, she's rather old.
We finished up the Christmas pud and ate the turkey cold. 

On the fifth day of Christmas outside the snowflakes flurried
But we were nice and warm inside - we ate the turkey - curried. 

On the sixth day of Christmas the turkey spirit died.
The children fought and bickered and we ate the turkey - fried. 

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave a wince
When he sat down to dinner and was given turkey mince. 

On the eighth day of Christmas the dog ran off for shelter
I served up turkey pancakes and a glass of Alka Seltzer. 

On the ninth day of Christmas poor Dad began to cry
He said he couldn't stand the strain of eating turkey pie. 

On the tenth day of Christmas the air was rather blue
And everybody grumbled at eating turkey stew. 

On the eleventh day of Christmas the Christmas tree was moulting
Mince pies as hard as rock and the turkey quite revolting. 

On the twelfth day of Christmas at last Dad smacked his lips
The guests had gone, the turkey too - we dined on fish and chips! 
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Bill's Punch Line]

Politically Correct "Deck the Halls" 

Deck the halls with boughs of non-endangered plant species
Fa la la la la, la la la la

'Tis the season to be self-actualizing,
Fa la la la la, la la la la

Don we now our alternate-lifestyle apparel
Fa la la la la, la la la la

Toll the ancient non-denominational-winter-solstice-holiday carol 
Fa la la la la, la la la la

See the blazing log of non-denominational-winter-solstice-holiday-non-
endangered wood before us, 
Fa la la la la, la la la la

Play the harp without unnecessary brutality and join the chorus
Fa la la la la, la la la la

Sing we emotionally stable in a collective group effort,
Fa la la la la la la la la

Heedless of the weather patterns despite the effects of global
warming, 
Fa la la la la, la la la la

Fast away the mature year passes
Fa la la la la la la la la

Hail the new year without any implicit ageism, ye persons
Fa la la la la la la la la

Dance in a non-hierarchical manner in merry measure,
Fa la la la la la la la la

While I tell of non-materialistic,
non-denominational-winter-solstice-holiday treasure,
Fa la la la la, la la la la
+---------------------------------------------+
[from UGA Humor List]

BARBIE'S LETTER TO SANTA

Dear Santa:

Listen you fat little troll, I've been helping you out every year,
playing at being the perfect Christmas present, wearing skimpy bathing
suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many
tea parties, and I hate to break it to ya Santa, but IT'S DEFINITELY
PAYBACK TIME!  There had better be some changes around here this
Christmas, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me,
you won't wanna be around to smell it).

So, here's my holiday wish list, Santa:

1. A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized
sweatshirt.  I'm sick of looking like a hooker.  How much smaller are
these bathing suits gonna get?  Do you have any idea what it feels
like to have nylon and Velcro crawling up your butt?

2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off.  Preferably white.
What bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation
underwear to my skin? (It looks like cellulite);

3. A REAL man... maybe GI Joe.  Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me Elmo over
that wimped-out excuse for a boyfriend Ken.  And what's with that
earring anyway?  If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make
him (and me) anatomically correct;

4. Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp
away once he is anatomically correct;

5. Breast reduction surgery.  I don't care whose arm you have to
twist, just get it done;

6. A sports bra.  To wear until I get the surgery.

7. A new career.  Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. 
How about a systems analyst?  Or better yet, an advertising account
exec. or even a Buyer at Ford Motor Company for goodness sake!

8. A new, more '90s persona.  Maybe "PMS Barbie," complete with a
miniature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a bag
of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie," with my very own paint gun,
outfitted with a fake fur coat and handcuffs; or "Stop Smoking
Barbie," sporting a removable Nicotrol patch and equipped with several
packs of gum;

9. No more McDonald's endorsements.  The grease is wrecking my vinyl;

10. Mattel stock options.  It's been 37 years --  I think I deserve
it;

OK, Santa, that's it.  Considering my valuable contribution to
society, I don't think these requests are out of line.  If you
disagree, then you can find yourself a new bimbo doll for next
Christmas.  It's that simple.

Yours truly,

Barbie
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Barbara Scheele, on Rehu]

 All I Needed to Know About Life I learned from Santa

 1).  Encourage people to believe in you.

 2).  Always remember who's naughty and who's nice.

 3).  Don't pout.

 4).  It's as much fun to give as it is to receive.

 5).  Some days it's okay to feel a little chubby.

 6).  Make your presents known.

 7).  Always ask for a little bit more than what you really want.

 8).  Bright red can make anyone look good.

 9).  Wear a wide belt and no-one will notice how many pounds
      you've gained.

 10). If you only show up once a year, everyone will think you're very
      important.

 11). Whenever you're at a loss for words, say: "HO, HO, HO!"
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Mike Lehman, via ALPHA Mailing List]

RETENTION OF CHRISTMAS RECORDS

Retention of personal moral information by Jolly Old Men With
Presents To Give is covered in the federal regulations promulgated
pursuant to 51 U.S.C. 553 et seq., the "Saints and Santas Relief Act."
Those regulations are to be found at 51 C.F.R. Part 78000, Information
Collection and Retention Requirements for Non-profit Toy Manufacturing
Concerns and Related Persons and Entities.  These requirements may be
summarized as follows:

1.  List of kids who are naughty -- Active + 5, unless litigation is
    instituted, then retain until conclusion of litigation

2.  List of kids who are nice -- Active + 1

3.  Coal inventories -- Audit + 6

4.  Raw materials used in toy manufacture -- 6y

5.  Toy inventories -- 6y

Retention of these records by electronic data management systems was
authorized by an amendment promulgated in 1996.
+---------------------------------------------+
 A POLITICALLY CORRECT CHRISTMAS STORY 
(c) Harvey Ehrlich, 1992

 'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
 How to live in a world that's politically correct?
 His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".
 "Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
 And labor conditions at the north pole
 Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.

 Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
 Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
 And equal employment had made it quite clear
 That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
 So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
 Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

 The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
 The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
 And people had started to call for the cops
 When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.
 Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened. 
 His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."

 And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
 Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
 And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
 Demanding millions in over-due compensation.

 So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
 Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,
 Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
 Demanding from now on her title was Ms.

 And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
 That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
 Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
 Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

 Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
 Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot.
 Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
 Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
 Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
 Nothing that's warlike or non-pacifistic.

 No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
 Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
 And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
 Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
 For they raised the hackles of those psychological
 Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

 No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
 Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
 Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
 And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.

 So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
 He just could not figure out what to do next.
 He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
 But you've got to be careful with that word today.
 His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
 Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.

 Something special was needed, a gift that he might
 Give to all without angering the left or the right.
 A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
 Each group of people, every religion;
 Every ethnicity, every hue,
 Everyone, everywhere...even you.

 So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
 May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on Earth.
+---------------------------------------------+
[from Susan Polizzi, via Rehu]

A colleague just e-mailed me: "I hope your holiday season has begun 
with some wonder."

'Deed it has.

I wonder who invented the tradition of homemade "Christmas cookies"

I wonder how I'm supposed to hide presents for children who are young
enough to still believe in Santa but old enough to start searching the
house for presents.

I wonder if Santa will sue me if he trips over the boxes (empty) that
are littering my livingroom floor between the hearth and the tree.

I wonder how I can get my two cats to quit stealing ornaments off the
tree.

I wonder who taught my students to write a sentence...or rather, who
DIDN'T teach them to write a decent sentence.

I wonder how I'm going to stay awake for the next four days in order
to get this all done...

I wonder how I wound up married to the most wonderful man in the
world...and why  he is always in a time zone of his own creation.

I wonder if this counts as pouting...
+---------------------------------------------+
