Achmed The Dead Terrorist Singing Xmas Carols

Signs Of Trouble In Santa’s Marriage

10. He’s replaced all the elves with scantily clad Swedish exchange students.
9. Mrs. Claus calls him “that fat freak in the red underwear.”
8. He traded in his sleigh for a van with a waterbed.
7. He’s been spending a little too much time with the life-sized holiday Barbie.
6. His new live-in person elf valet, Steve.
5. Mrs. Claus having cybersex relationship with accountant from New Jersey.
4. He knows when she’s been sleeping, he knows when she’s awake because he’s bugged the bedroom.
3. Lately, she keeps “forgetting” to tie her robe when she brings the elves their morning coffee.
2. Stockings aren’t the only things he’s been nailing in front of the fireplace.

..and the number one reason why Santa’s marriage might be in trouble:

1. Not a creature is stirring in Santa’s pants.

A Redneck Christmas Poem

Twas the Night before Christmas, and all through the shack
Not a creature was stirrin’, cept the lice on muh back.
The Skoal cans wuz nailed to the screen door with care,
With hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were sleepin’, all snug in their beds,
While visions of? tractor pulls danced in their heads.
And Ma in her nightgown all stained with pound cake.
Had just settled down to watch Ricki Lake.

When out in the driveway, a loud noise I heard,
I opened the winder to check muh T-bird.
I ran to the door, like I’s on a mission,
But I tripped on some parts from muh granny’s transmission.

The moon shone outside, the hound dog wuz barkin’.
Muh daughter weren’t? home yet, she wuz still out parkin’.

When what to muh whiskey blind eyes should I see
But a Chevy S-10, pulled by eight flyin’ sheep.
With a fat nasty driver, so disgustin’ and sick
I said, “Shoot Fire! That must be St. Nick!

More rapid than X-lax his wooly sheep came
And he belched and he hollered, and he called ‘em by name.

Now CLIFFORD! Now VERNON! Now LESTER and ENUS!
On FESTUS!? On ELMER!? On ROSCOE and CLETUS!

From the top of the shack to them there garbage bins
Now Dash Away! Dash Away! Dash Away youins!

I heard a loud sound on the roof of muh shack.
Pud down muh beer and went fer muh gun rack.
He fell through the roof, plum killed my dog,
I swear that ole’ Santa looked just like Boss Hog.

He wore a T-shirt, rebel flag on the front,
And his jeans were all bloody from that morning’s hunt.
A big nekkid lady tattooed on his arm,
And he wore black boots that he’d picked up in ‘Nam.

His eyes, how they glazed from too much Wild Turkey.
From the side of his mouth hung a stick of beef jerky.

A scar on his cheek from a fight with the cops.
The veins on his face looked ready to pop.

The butt of a Marlboro clung to his lip
He wore a hip pack full of B-B-Q chips.
He had a fat face and a hairy beer belly.
I ain’t seen one that big since muh ex-wife Shelly.

He was gap-toothed and dumb with an I.Q. of three
And I laughed cause that redneck was smarter than me.
A wink of his eye, a fierce shake of his head,
From his hair came a rat that ran under the bed.

He reached in his sack, sipped his gin and tonic,
Then filled the kid’s stockings with Hooked on Phonics.
His toys came from Big Lots and they weren’t very nice
But he had lots of them and yuh can’t beat the price.

He gave us a tape of them hound dogs that sing Jingle Bells.
Some Crisco, some Spam, some Oatmeal Cream pies,
And a Nascar T-shirt in Double X size.

When the presents were gone and he had no more,
He staggered and stumbled right through muh screen door.

He hopped in his truck, to his sheep gave an order
“Hurry up youins! To the Tennessee border!”
And I heard him cry out, with a strong southern drawl,
“MERRY CHRISTMAS, YOU REDNECKS! MERRY CHRISTMAS Y’ALL… YEE HAWWWW!

Letters to Santa

1. Dear Santa,
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur for Xmas. Iv ben a good boy all yeer.
YeR FReND, BiLLy

Dear Billy,
Nice spelling. You’re on your way to being a career lawn care specialist. How ’bout I send you a f****** book so you can learn to read and write? I’m giving your older brother the space ranger, at least HE can spell!
Santa

2. Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is peace and joy in the world for everybody! Love, Sarah

Dear Sarah,
Your parents smoked pot when they had you, didn’t they?
Santa

3. Dear Santa,
I’ve written you for three years now asking for a fire truck. Please, I really really want a fire truck this year!
Love, Joey

Dear Joey,
Let me make it up to you. While you sleep, I’m gonna torch your house. You’ll have more fire trucks than you’ll know what to do with.
Santa

4. Dear Santa,
I don’t know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I’d like for my mommy and daddy to get back together.
Please see what you can do.
Love, Teddy

Dear Teddy,
What, and ruin that hot affair your dad’s still having with the babysitter? He’s banging her like a screen door in a hurricane, son! Let me get you some nice Legos instead.
Santa

5. Dear Santa,
I need more Pokemon cards please! All my friends have more Pokemon cards than me.
Please see what you can do. Love, Michelle

Dear Michelle,
It blows my f****** mind. Kids are forcing their parents to buy hundreds of dollars worth of these stupid cards, and none of you snot-nosed brats are even learning to play the game. Let me get you something more your speed, like “Chutes and Ladders.”
Santa

6. Dear Santa,
I want a new bike, playstation, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a drum kit, a pony and a tuba.
Love, Francis

Dear Francis,
Who names their kid “Francis” nowadays?
Santa

7. Dear Santa,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots for your reindeer outside the backdoor.
Love, Susan

Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the runs and carrots make the deer fart in my face.
You want to be a kiss-ass? Leave me a glass of Chivas Regal and some Toblerone.
Santa

8. Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you making toys?
Your friend, Thomas

Dear Thomas,
All toys get made in China. I have a condo in Vegas, where I spend most my time squeezing cocktail waitresses asses, and losing all my cash at the craps table. Hey, YOU wanted to know!
Santa

9. Dear Santa,
Do you see us when we’re sleeping, do you really know when we’re awake, like in the song?
Love, Jessica

Dear Jessica,
You are that gullible? Good luck in whatever you do, I’m skipping your house…
Santa

10. Dear Santa,
I really really want a puppy this year. Please please please PLEASE.
Timmy

Timmy, That whiney begging crap may work with your folks, but that crap don’t work up here. You’re getting a sweater again.
Santa

11. Dearest Santa,
We don’t have a chimney in our house, how do you get into our home?
Love, Marky Mark

Firstly, stop calling yourself “Marky,” that’s why you’re getting your ass whipped at school. Secondly, you don’t live in a house, that’s a low-rent apartment complex you’re living in. Thirdly, I get inside your pad just like all the burglars do, through your bedroom window. Sweet Dreams!
Santa

Proof Santa Is A Woman!

Santa Claus is a woman….I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he’s a she. Think about it. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull it all off!

For starters, the vast majority of men don’t even think about selecting gifts until Christmas Eve. Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. On this count alone, I’m convinced Santa is a woman.

Surely, if he were a man, everyone in the universe would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating musical Chia Pet under the tree, still in the bag.

Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all, there would be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted and strapped on to the rear bumper of the sleigh amid wide-eyed, desperate claims that buck season had been extended. Blitzen’s rack would already be on the way to the taxidermist.

Even if the male Santa DID have reindeer, he’d still have transportation problems because he would inevitably get lost up there in the snow and clouds and then refuse to stop and ask for directions.

Other reasons why Santa can’t possibly be a man:

Men can’t pack a bag.

Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.

Men would feel their masculinity is threatened having to be seen with all those elves.

Men don’t answer their mail.

Men would refuse to allow their physique to be described even in jest as anything remotely resembling a “bowlful of jelly.”

Men aren’t interested in stockings unless somebody’s wearing them.

Having to do the Ho Ho Ho thing would seriously inhibit their ability to pick up women.

Finally, being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment!

Funny Christmas Quotes

Aren’t we forgetting the true meaning of Christmas? You know, the birth of Santa. —Bart Simpson

Once again we find ourselves enmeshed in the holiday season, that very special time of year when we join with our loved ones in sharing centuries-old traditions such as trying to find a parking space at the mall. —Dave Barry

I once bought my kids a set of batteries for Christmas with a note on it saying “toys not included.” —Bernard Manning

What I don’t like about office Christmas parties is looking for a job the next day. —Phyllis Diller

Nothing says holidays like a cheese log. —Ellen DeGeneres

I stopped believing in Santa Clause when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store, and he asked for my autograph. —Shirley Temple

Maxine’s Holiday Maxims

The best thing about late November is watching people who make homemade Christmas gifts start to really panic.

I enjoy battling mall crowds for the hot new Christmas toys…Oh, I don’t buy the toy — I just like battling.

Ever notice how the guy with the light-up Christmas tie always leaves the party alone?

I found a surprise or two under the tree…the dog hates going outside in the snow.

I’ve got Christmas fever…That’s what I get for skipping my flu shot.

My personal goal for this year is to get in the way of other people’s goals.

Now that the holidays are over, there are a lot of bargains out there…in the form of slightly used gifts I’ve returned.

January is designated as National Diet Month…mainly because December is National Eat-Like-a-Pig Month.

I’m getting cabin fever…Mainly from drinking syrup straight from the bottle.

Thought about taking up snowboarding, but then I figured, why not just ram my butt into a tree & save a long trip to the mountains.

It’s National Hot Tea Month…Throw a tea drinker into a harbor to celebrate.

This is a special time of year, if by “special,” you mean horrible.

The handy thing about credit cards is that they’re a great way to pay off your credit cards.

Signs You’re Sick of the Holidays

8. You’ve got red and green bags under your eyes
7. You’re serving reindeer pot pie
6. When you hear, “Sleigh bells ring, are you listenin’?,” you scream, “No! I’m not listening!”
5. You climb on your roof and start shooting carolers with your air gun
4. You think you hear your Christmas tree taunting you.
3. Instead of spending time with family, you’re watching some guy make photo copies
2. You’ve got eggnog coming out of your ears
1. Two words: tinsel rash

First Day of Fifth Grade

It’s the first day of fifth grade, and the teacher is asking each student a question.

“What was the best part about your summer?” she asks one boy sitting in the front row.

“I went to visit my nanna,” he replies.

“It’s fifth grade now, so we’ll expect you to use the adult word, ‘grandma,’ okay?” says the teacher. The boy nods.

Next the teacher asks a little girl sitting in the third row. “What is your favorite food?”

The girl replies, “I like peppermint gummy goodies.”

“Now, now, remember that this is fifth grade,” says the teacher. “Try to use the adult word, okay?” The girl nods.

The teacher then turns to little boy sitting in the corner of the room. “Do you like to read?” she asks.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies.

“Good! Do you have a favorite book? Remember, use the adult word!”

The boy thinks for a moment, then says, “Yes, Winnie-the-Shit.”

Crazy Laws

Believe it or not these are all legitimate laws that at one time or another were on the books. The scary thing is that some of them still are.

• It is illegal to curse on a mini-golf course.
• Cars are the only item allowed in a garage.
• Toads may not be licked.
• You may not hunt moths under a street light.
• It is a crime for dogs to mate within 500 yards of a church. Breaking this law is punishable by a fine of $500 and/or six months in prison.
• You cannot bathe two babies in the same tub at the same time.
• Zoot suits are prohibited.
• It is illegal to cry on the witness stand.
• It is illegal for a man to beat his wife with a strap wider than 2 inches without her consent.
• Roosters may not crow in the city limits.
• Molesting butterflies can result in a $500 fine.
• It is illegal to walk a camel down Palm Canyon Drive between the hours of four and six PM.
• It is illegal for a secretary to be alone in a room with her boss.
• Two bathtubs may not be installed in the same house.
• Motor vehicles may not drive on city streets unless a man with a lantern is walking ahead of it.
• One may not carry a lunch down the street between 11 and 1 o’clock.
• The owners of houses with Christmas lights on them past February second may be fined up to $250.
• It is illegal to shoot jackrabbits from the back of a streetcar.
• Persons classified as “ugly” may not walk down any street.
• Prohibits elephants from strolling down Market Street unless they are on a leash.
• It is illegal to pile horse manure more than six feet high on a street corner.
• It is illegal to wipe one’s car with used underwear.
• It is illegal to have more than two cats or dogs. -Ord. 7.08.595
• You may not play percussion instruments on the beach.
• Ducks have the right of way to cross Rancho California St. at all times.

How To Bathe A Cat

(Note: Jeffery LaCroix is a veterinarian with an office in Wilmington. He writes a column for the Morning Star called “From Paws to Tails.” Here is his response to a letter regarding bathing a cat:)

Dear Dr. LaCroix: I’ve heard that cats never have to be bathed, and that they have some sort of special enzyme in their saliva that keeps them clean. This doesn’t sound believable to me because there are definite “kitty” odors on my couch and dirty cat paw prints on our white hearth. Is this true about the saliva? If we do decide to give “Nice Kitty” a bath, how do we do that? – NSP, Wilmington

Dear NSP: Fortunately for you, several years ago a client gave me a written set of instructions about cat bathing which I am privileged to share with you:

Cat Bathing As A Martial Art

A. Know that although the cat has the advantage of quickness and lack of concern for human life, you have the advantage of strength.

Capitalize on that advantage by selecting the battlefield. Don’t try to bathe him in an open area where he can force you to chase him. Pick a very small bathroom. If your bathroom is more than four feet square, I recommend that you get in the tub with the cat and close the sliding-glass doors as if you were about to take a shower. (A simple shower curtain will not do. A berserk cat can shred a three-ply rubber shower curtain quicker than a politician can shift positions.)

B. Know that a cat has claws and will not hesitate to remove all the skin from your body. Your advantage here is that you are smart and know how to dress to protect yourself.

I recommend canvas overalls tucked into high-top construction boots, a pair of steel-mesh gloves, an army helmet, a hockey face-mask, and a long-sleeved flak jacket.

C. Use the element of surprise. Pick up your cat nonchalantly, as if to simply carry him to his supper dish. (Cats will not usually notice your strange attire. They have little or no interest in fashion as a rule.)

D. Once you are inside the bathroom, speed is essential to survival. In a single liquid motion, shut the bathroom door, step into the tub enclosure, slide the glass door shut, dip the cat in the water and squirt him with shampoo.

You have just begun one of the wildest 45 seconds of your life.

E. Cats have no handles. Add the fact that he now has soapy fur, and the problem is radically compounded. Do not expect to hold on to him for more than two or three seconds at a time. When you have him, however, you must remember to give him another squirt of shampoo and rub like crazy. He’ll then spring free and fall back into the water, thereby rinsing himself off. (The national record for cats is three latherings, so don’t expect too much.)

F. Next, the cat must be dried. Novice cat bathers always assume this part will be the most difficult, for humans generally are worn out at this point and the cat is just getting really determined. In fact, the drying is simple compared with what you have just been through. That’s because by now the cat is semi-permanently affixed to your right leg. You simply pop the drain plug with your foot, reach for your towel and wait. (Occasionally, however, the cat will end up clinging to the top of your army helmet. If this happens, the best thing you can do is to shake him loose and to encourage him toward your leg.) After all the water is drained from the tub, it is a simple matter to just reach down and dry the cat.

In a few days the cat will relax enough to be removed from your leg. He will usually have nothing to say for about three weeks and will spend a lot of time sitting with his back to you. He might even become psycho-ceramic and develop the fixed stare of a plaster figurine. You will be tempted to assume he is angry. This isn’t usually the case. As a rule he is simply plotting ways to get through your defenses and injure you for life the next time you decide to give him a bath. But at least now he smells a lot better.

You Just Can’t Win Anymore

Look At The Bright Side, Your Not Going To Need Money For College

Most Parents Holiday Dream

Singing Polar Bears Is So Last Century

You Didn’t Know Santa Worked For The NSA Did You?

She’s Already There

Next Year I’m Getting A Hybrid

Good Cause Your Next Ones At The Pound!

Jewish Friends On Christmas

Sure Was!