PDA

View Full Version : Holiday Jokes 'n Stories (Christmas, Chanukkah, Kwanzaa, whatever)



kingfrogger
03 Dec 03,, 21:49
Christmas Story

"Twas the night before Christmas--Old Santa was pissed.
He cussed out the elves and tore up his list.

Miserable brats, ungrateful jerks.
I have a good mind to scrap the whole friggin' works.

I've busted my ass for damn near a year.
Instead of "Thanks Santa"--what do I hear?
The old lady bitches and says "Take a hike"
The elves want more money--The reindeers on strike

Rudolph got drunk and humped all the maids.
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS.
And just when I thought that things would get better
Those assholes from IRS sent me a letter,
They say I owe taxes--now ain't that damn funny
Who the hell ever gave Santa Claus money?

And the kids these days--ain't they the pits
They want the impossible--Those mean little shits
I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds
Assembling dolls...arms, legs and heads
I made tons of yo yo's--all I hear are moans
They want computers and expensive cell phones

Flying through the air...dodging tall trees
Climbing down chimney's and skinning my knees
I'm quitting this job there's just no enjoyment
I'll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment.

I'm calling off Christmas, and here is the reason,

I found me a blonde.
I'm going SOUTH for the season!

bigross86
04 Dec 03,, 12:17
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE RAMADAN:

Published: Posthumously Author: Mullah Mohammed Omar


Twas the night before Ramadan, and all through the cave
Not a creature was stirring, it felt like a grave.
The turbans were hung by the firepit with care,
In hopes that the US Air Force would not soon be there.

The soldiers were restless, without any beds,
While visions of air strikes flashed in their heads.
Osama in his burkha, and I in my goatskin cap,
Had just settled down for a cold, barren winter's nap,

When out on the ledge, there arose such a clatter,
I grabbed my Kalashnikov to see what was the matter.
Away from the racket, I ran like a girl,
Tripped over a goat, into a ball I did curl.

The moon shone down, on the new-fallen snow
And lit up the valley, with an ominous glow.
When, what to my one good eye should appear,
But a dozen Apaches, and M-1's in the rear.

And their leader so fearless, his troops he did push,
I knew in an instant- it must be George Bush.
More rapid than eagles, his forces they came,
And they whistled and shouted, and called out our names-

"Now Omar! Osama! Muhammad! Abdul!
We come for you now, we've taken Kabul!
To the top of the cliffs, to the back of their caves!
When you chose this war, you dug your own graves!"

As the dry leaves, that before the assault choppers fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, light up the sky.
So up to the ledge, his forces they flew-
with full magazines, and flamethrowers too.

And then in a twinkling, I heard with a thud
the explosions of Tomahawks, not one was a dud.
As I chambered my rifle, and was turning around,
Osama was there, disguised in a gown.

He was dressed all in drag, from his head to his toes,
And he said he would flee, while I held off his foes.
A bundle of money he had stuffed in his pack,
He said "I'm going to Baghdad, and I'm not looking back!"

His eyes were all glassy, he trembled with fear;
The American bombs, they rang in his ears.
He saddled his goat, then turned tail and fled,
But a US sniper, shot him in the head.

I watched with cold fear, as his body did slump-
The goat threw him off, he fell with a thump.
And so there I stood, my plans all destroyed,
about to suffer a fate I could not avoid.

I dropped to my knees, asked Allah for help,
His voice boomed in my ears, "YOU IGNORANT WHELP!
I gave you the Bible, the Torah and Koran,
But you were too arrogant to understand!

I told you to honor, your neighbors and wives-
not to enslave them, or degrade their lives!
You invoke My name, to sanction your deeds,
but you are the last thing, that this world needs-
And so I'll send you and bin Laden to Hell."

The last words I heard, as the bombs fell,
Were from George Bush himself, as he scaled the wall,
"ONE NATION, UNDER GOD, WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL!"

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


'TWAS THE NIGHT OVER BAGHDAD (Courtesy of SAC)


'Twas the night of the trials when all through Iraq,
All the troops were assembled, each one with a pack.
The Kuwaitis were fleeing their country with care
'Cause large profits from oil were not theirs to share.

The locals were huddled on palace-like floors
As Iraqi soldiers were storming the doors.
With all the world watching and soldiers on guard,
Even reporters said that Saddam was too hard.

When right over Baghdad there arose such a clatter
Hussein jumped up to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash
Pulled back his mustache and threw up the sash.

Then what to his beady little eyes should appear,
But B-52's with Christian bombardiers.
With a squadron of Eagles guarding their flanks,
He knew in a moment it must be the Yanks.

With chuckle that was heard as far as the Nile,
"IP inbound" the Nav announced with a smile.
The crew-dogs all thought it was a nice touch of class,
To change most of Iraq from sand into glass.

Now rockets, now mortars, now B-52's,
Let's light up old Baghdad for the late evening news.
Over guard came these words just before the attack,
"If you missed sunrise today, here's another from SAC".

On the mosque, on the palace, on every last wall,
Bombs Away, Bombs Away, Let the nukes fall!
Then onto the rooftops the bombs they did fall
With great mushroom clouds engulfing them all.

It was SAC's little present
To Saddam the great sage-
A fully paid ticket
Back to the Stone Age

And then the planes turned, heading back to their homes,
Assured that Saddam was charred to the bone.
The flight leader exclaimed as they stared to land,
"That's one for the good guys, the ragheads
be damned!"

kingfrogger
04 Dec 03,, 16:18
LOL...

I was wondering how long it'd take that one to get brought over here...

:LOL

kingfrogger
04 Dec 03,, 17:20
I got this in an e-mail, but I thought it was cool.

Enjoy.
-------------------------------------------------------------------

'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,
HE LIVED ALL ALONE
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE
MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE.

I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY
WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
AND TO SEE JUST WHO
IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.

I LOOKED ALL ABOUT;
A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE:
NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS,
NOT EVEN A TREE.

NO STOCKING BY MANTLE,
JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND.
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES
OF FAR DISTANT LANDS...

WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,
AWARDS OF ALL KINDS...
A SOBER THOUGHT
CAME THROUGH MY MIND.

OR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT.
IT WAS DARK AND DREARY.
I FOUND A HOME OF A SOLDIER,
ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.

THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING--
SILENT, ALONE--
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR
IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.

HE FACE WAS SO GENTLE,
THE ROOM IN DISORDER;
NOT HOW I PICTURED
A UNITED STATES SOLDIER.

WAS THIS THE HERO
OF WHO I'D JUST READ?
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO;
THE FLOOR FOR A BED?

I REALIZED THE FAMILIES
THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT
OWED THEIR LIVES TO THIS SOLDIER
WHO WAS WILLING TO FIGHT.

SOON 'ROUND THE WORLD
THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,
AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE
A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.

THEY ALL ENJOY FREEDOM
EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR
BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS
LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.

I COULDN'T HELP WONDER
HOW MANY LAY ALONE
ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE,
IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.

THE VERY THOUGHT
BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE.
I DROPPED TO MY KNEES
AND STARTED TO CRY.

THE SOLDIER AWAKENED
AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,
"SANTA, DON'T CRY.
THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE."

"I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM.
DON'T ASK FOR MORE.
MY LIFE IS MY GOD,
MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS."

THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER
AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP.
I COULDN'T CONTROL IT;
I CONTINUED TO WEEP.

I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS,
SO SILENT AND STILL;
AND WE BOTH SHIVERED
FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.

I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE
ON THAT COLD, DARK NIGHT--
THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR,
SO WILLING TO FIGHT.

THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER
AND WITH A VOICE, SOFT AND PURE,
WHISPERED, "CARRY ON, SANTA.
IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL'S SECURE."

ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH
AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY FRIEND,
AND TO ALL, A GOOD NIGHT."

This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa, Japan. He
makes the following request:

"Would you send this to as many people as you can? Christmas is coming
soon and some credit is due to our U.S. service men and women for our
being able to celebrate this and other holidays. Let's stop and think of
our true heroes who have sacrificed their lives or parts of their lives
so that we may enjoy our many freedoms."

kingfrogger
04 Dec 03,, 17:26
Another e-mail I received... this one's good, but to get the full effect you've gotta read it all the way to the bottom.
---------------------------------------------------------------------

The Best Christmas Story Ever

My brother used to love the video game Mortal Kombat.
When it first came out, all summer long, he'd spend all his
money at the pizza place up the street trying to get better at it.
But older kids always seemed to come along just as he was doing
well and beat his score. Back then, we knew that the only good
way to get something you really wanted that was expensive was
to ask for it for Christmas.

That year, I guess he was about 10; he begged and begged
that all he wanted was Mortal Kombat. It would be another year
before it would come out for the Super Nintendo, so he knew he
was asking for a full sized arcade video game. But I think he
honestly believed that if he was really really good and if he
mentioned it enough times, that it would somehow happen.
For months it was all he talked about. When school started
again, he didn't complain one bit. He was being extra good,
and plus it meant Christmas was a little closer, he'd say.

As Christmas got closer and closer I tried talking down his
expectations dozens of times, telling him that Mom and Dad could
never afford it and Santa couldn't fit it down the chimney. But
to him, Mom and Dad could afford anything that really mattered
and Santa had fit an entire ping pong table down the chimney
one year with very little evident trouble. Well, the years went by
as they have a habit of doing. We got Mortal Kombat for the
Super Nintendo (gray blood and all) and eventually Mortal Kombat 2.
It wasn't quite the same, of course. He never went back to the
pizza place to play any of the games after that year.

It may sound silly, but I remember thinking he just may have been
a little afraid to hope ever again after that Christmas morning. So
last Christmas he was 21, and I got him an arcade cabinet version
of Mortal Kombat 3 Ultimate Edition. I bought it on E-bay and
got a real steal at about $500. The shipping was a real killer, at
$250 in crating, handling and trucking.

I took a day off from work to go get this thing. I knew I would
need to rent a U-haul to pick it up from the hub, but I didn't
realize there would be customs paperwork and duties. I managed
to get it all worked out and the great colossus hidden in the garage
of the people living next door to our parents house. When I
unwrapped the thing of it's cardboard and plastic, it looked like
a dream come true. A beaten scratched sticky dream come true
with the Wu-Tang clan symbol scratched into the side.

Over the next two weeks, it was given a complete wash down,
a fresh coat of paint, new side art and a shiny new sheet of plastic
for the marquee. The plastic and paint came from Home Depot,
but the side art arrived just in the nick of time for Christmas.
Christmas Eve, we all sat up talking until the late hours of the
evening about things we'd done in the neighborhood, trouble we had
gotten into. Without my steering the conversation there at all, he
brought up that year that all he had done was obsess about
Mortal Kombat and how stupid he was.

The last thing he said before he went off to his old bedroom
and I went off to mine was, "It sure was a great game, though."
I have never liked getting up early but at 4:00 this Christmas
morning, I felt like a superhero. I leapt out of bed and dressed
silently, crept out of the house just the way I used to sneak out
to kiss in the park with my first real girlfriend. The air was cold,
smoky and perfect.

Even if I was back there running to the park to see her, I
couldn't have been more excited as I tilted the garage door open
and hand-carted the beast back up the sidewalk towards my
parents house. Getting it into the house quietly was a real task,
but I managed. Getting the entire thing wrapped around and around
with gold foil paper was a real task, but I managed. A giant silver
bow and card completed the picture.

The card read: Looks like the chimney is bigger than I thought.

I have never received any gift that made me feel as good as I felt
when I saw his face as he realized what I had done. All the paper
seemed to disappear from it in a flash. I have to admit even I was
surprised at how impressive it looked standing there like a
gleaming obelisk of pubescent fantasy surrounded by golden foil
in my parents living room. He laid his hands on it almost reverently
and was muttering, "I can't believe it. I can't believe you did this."

Things were getting a bit dramatic for me at that point, so I
switched the surge protector on with the toe of my slipper causing
the screen to blink on and the familiar thrumming cadence of the
theme music to drown out any sense of solemnity in the room. It
took us until after lunch time to get around to opening any of the
other presents. We played that game together until our eyes felt
ready to fall out of their sockets.

A year later, I don't think anyone who has been into the room
he keeps it in has been able to say they have anything as cool.

Anyway, you want to know what I got from him that year?
A leather checkbook cover.

Fucker.

bigross86
04 Dec 03,, 19:24
LOL!!!!!

As for the others, I saw those on WT when they were first posted, last year. I think I posted the SAC one. Who knows?

kingfrogger
04 Dec 03,, 21:22
This is a rant I had on WT earlier today... shows what 5 cups of coffee + no lunch + hypoglycemia + ADD + a shitty day at work will get you:

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

Seriously... those moments (especially during holiday shopping) where you're in a store, looking for toothpaste or something equally mundane, and you've finally found your ONE ITEM...

The lines are all packed with goobers dragging two cartfuls of junk around, along with three unruly kids throwing toys and candy onto the floor for your "innocent bystander" ass to slip on and break your back.

Finally, some jerk-off with a 'Cashier' vest and a nose piercing flicks on the light for his '10 Items or Less' Express Lane. Instantly, the herd of cattle that was recently right behind you makes a B-line for the new target, and your ankle gets clipped by a fat woman driving her overflowing cart straight toward Paradise.

People start randomly checking the contents of their baskets, counting on fingers and muttering to themselves, trying to figure out what they can toss on top of the racks in between registers to 'slim down' their selections to "almost legal," so they can get their asses out of the stores as well.

Finally, once your near-concussion has subsided and you've gained your senses back, you steer yourself toward the nearest line, some woman that's "sighing" with every new customer. She appears to enjoy her job about as much as someone that shovels dung with their bare hands would, and she's extremely "friendly" (note the sarcasm).

Just as the guy in front of you dumps all his things onto the conveyor belt, the woman looks at you, rolls her eyes, and says something like "I'm going on break, this lane is closed."

Frustrated to no end, you retreat and seek out a new target. The 'Customer Service' counter looks like it might work, and so you go ask the person attending there if you can ring up your measly one item there, to skip the hassle and frustration. "Certainly," he or she says. Enjoying your triumph, you quickly grab your wallet and begin pulling out your credit card.

"Oh, I'm sorry," says the attendant. "I can only do cash transactions at this register. Have you tried one of our 'Express Lanes'?"

Blood nearing the point of boiling, you turn around, find the nearest unarmed security guard, and hurl your box of Tartar Control Crest like Brett Favre seeking end zone, nailing the geezer in the back of his head. As he spins around, dazed from the impact, you grab the nearest 5 or 6-year old you can find and begin verbally reprimanding him. Slapping his wrist, you feel a little better about your day, despite the wasted time and effort.

Calmly strolling out of the human zoo, you figure you'd be better off buying some hydrochloric acid off eBay and gargling with that for awhile, at least until the holiday shopping nightmare is over...

Oh, Happy Holidays everyone... enjoy shopping this year!!

bigross86
04 Dec 03,, 22:09
Is this speaking from experience, Froggy?

kingfrogger
04 Dec 03,, 22:26
Ummm...

No, of course not...

What ever gave you that idea?? :sniper

ChrisF202
05 Dec 03,, 01:01
lmao good ones guys