English Xmas Kitties

Stacy Mineart

Today was yet another day in that inevitable annual melee we call christmas preparation. The rarity of Sunday opening hours in England necesitates that on such occasions every able-bodied individual must pile onto the high street to take advantage of the extra shopping opportunity whether they need anything or not. Thus, when I meandered into town at the bum crack of dawn (about 11:30 am at the moment) I was immediately surrounded by hordes of screaming cherubs gift-wrapped in their Sunday Best.

Elderly women with glorified suitcases on wheels used their carry-on equipage as weapons to smite any unfortunate pedestrian who might possibly be thinking of squeezing through the shop entrance before them. I waded into the mosh pit (complete with Mariah Carey on Muzak, having herself a merry little Christmas) and emerged two hours later at dusk, with Christmas tree and various accessories including toilet paper. (In fact, every person in the shop was carrying at least one package of toilet paper. I figured it was mandatory so I joined in, lest they turn me away from the check-out line for lack of bathroom tissue. Perhaps British people use it to decorate their trees?)

Having learned the art of crowd control, I used the christmas tree box to take out two toddlers and an old woman who were holding me up at the cross walk. Skillfully dodging the dentures as they bounced off the windscreen of a nearby car, I sauntered home whistling Jingle Bells. (ok, I wasn’t really whistling. I can’t whistle, even a little bit. But I was thinking Jingle Bells.) I arrived home as the stars were coming out (it must have been 2:30 by that time) and prepared to decorate the fatted calf.

As I did so, the cats took greater than average interest in the proceedings. Their dialogue was as follows:

I say, Gunther. There appears to be a new houseplant.

Plant, eh? Can we climb it? Have a go.

No, mate. Its too prickly.

Seems a bit unsteady, that. They want to water it.

Oh, by all means-

No, son. You know what mum said about watering her plants that way.

Oh. Quite right. Anyway, maybe it’s edible.

Not bad. It has a piquant, plastic sort of aftertaste.

I say, ol boy, lets go …I say! What the bloody hell are you doing?

Sorry mate. That shoelace was giving me a dirty look.

Ah. Rummy bastards. Is it dead?

I think so. For now, anyway. You never can tell with those sneaky sods.

Quite right. Anyway, I was saying, lets go purr round mum and see if she’ll sort us some proper nosh.

Capital, mate. Lead on.

(entering the bedroom)

Strewth! Look at all that paper!

Sweet fancy moses! Its strewn right cross the bed an all! We can’t be havin’ that.

Its the crinkly kind as well. It can’t be safe.

Lets sort it out, mate!

Yeehaw! (and other cat-like expressions of war)

***Sounds of a scuffle ensue***

Oi! What’s that you’ve got mate?

Bubble wrap. Blast these unopposable thumbs!

Pee on it mate, that’ll show it!

Sorted!

Hold up a minute son, do you see what I see?

What, you mean those boxes?

Yeah. Remember what happened last time mum got boxes?

Oh, bloody hell. My bollocks still haven’t grown back from that time.

You an me both, mate. We’ll have to get rid of those boxes.

I don’t know, son. They’ve all got stuff in ’em. Rattly stuff.

Are they edible?

Naw, too many staples.

Right. They must be just like the other box in the loo, then.

Ah. Brilliant. I needed a waz anyway.

Wait! Somebody’s coming. Run for it!

(back downstairs)

What now, then?

Lets just go nosh on that new houseplant.

Oh, quite right. Hang on! What’s happened to it?

Bilmey! Its gone all sparkly!

I don’t like the looks of that.

No, way! Is it actually twinkling at us?

And is that toilet paper hanging on it?

And on the top! Do you see what I see?

Another bloody shoelace! Rummy bastards, how do they do it?

Its red and velvety as well. You know those are the worst kind.

Did it just say something about your mother?

Thats it, I’m going up there…

Carry on, I’ll cover you.

***CRASH***

Curses! You fool! Somebody’s coming! Assume the position!

What position?

Lie on the couch like you’re sleeping. That way they blame the dog.

Ah. Quite right.

************************************************

I’m not quite sure if these were there actual words. The above is a reconstruction based on the evidence I found when I arrived. Anyway, now I must go and re-erect my toilet papered tree.

Continue ReadingEnglish Xmas Kitties

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas: Internet Version

Christmas Sweater

Author Unknown

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and throughout the net,
not a modem was chirping; (It wasn’t mail-hour yet).
The peripherals down and backed up with care,
In hopes that St. Echo soon would be there.

The grad students home all snug in their beds,
with hi-res dreams abuzz in their heads.
We Sysops lounged by the terminal’s glow,
With occasional bursts of RF snow.

When from the hard drives there came such a clatter,
To the consoles we sprang to see what was the matter.
The monitor cleared, then flashed red and green,
as we hunched in our chairs around the machine.

When what to our wondering eyes should appear,
but VGA graphics of a sleigh and reindeer,
with a bitmapped driver, a lively old fellow,
I knew right away it must be St. Echo.

Faster than mnp his packets they came,
and he whistled and shouted as he called them by name:
"Now, Arpa! now, Bitnet! now, Opus and D-Comm!
On, CC:Mail and Fido and SEAdog and TComm!
Over Watts and Pursuit, via long-distance call,
Now hack away, hack away, hack away all!

As fast as the switching that sends them about,
When they meet with a BUSY, change to "host route",
So onto the mailer, and protocol sync,
when the RD and SD lights ceased to blink.
There off the screen, I saw a reflection,
and turned ’round to look in the other direction.

Right there behind us, amidst the tech-toys,
Had appeared St. Echo, with not even a noise.
Wearing a grimy red jumpsuit from his feet to his beard,
None but a techie could look that weird.
Odd bits of surplus hung out of his sack,
that bulged at odd angles slung over his back.

His eyes did .twinkle, though somewhat bleary,
from staring at monitors, yet still quite merry.
the corners of his mouth were turned up in a ,
and a scraggly grey beard hung down from his chin.
A ‘486 portable in his left hand was held,
and a cellular modem was strapped to his belt.

I d to see him, this overweight gnome,
he settled down by the CP, as if it ’twere home.
A flip of the toggles, and a tug on his beard,
soon showed us that he was not to be feared.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
filled all empty sockets, then with a swift jerk,
replaced a few boards inside the machine,
turned it back on and checked it out clean.

The screen cleared once more, flashed green and red,
as he faded from sight he (wave)d and said;
"Keep the net singing, and I’ll always be near,
Merry Christmas to all, and a Happy New Year!"

Continue Reading‘Twas the Night Before Christmas: Internet Version

Microsoft Acquires Christmas

  • Post author:
  • Post category:Holidays

by Robert Reiser

NORTH POLE (API) – MICROSOFT announced an agreement with Santa Claus Industries to acquire Christmas at a press conference held via sattelite from Santa’s summer estate somewhere in the southern hemisphere. Christmas is always a special moment to freeze especially when it is decorated with Patio lighting . In the deal, Microsoft would gain exclusive rights to Christmas, Reindeer, and other unspecified inventions. In addition, Microsoft will gain access to millions of households through the Santa Sleigh.

The announcement also included a notice that beginning Jan 1, 1998, Christmas and the Reindeer names would be copyrighted by Microsoft. This unprecedented move was facilitated by the recently aquired MS Court. Microsoft stated its commitment to “all who have made Christmas great,” and vowed to “make licensing of the Christmas and Reindeer names available to all.” It is believed that the guidelines for licensing these names, due before Halloween, will be very strict.

When asked “Why buy Christmas?” Bill Gates replied “Microsoft has been working on a more effecient delivery mechanism for all of our products for some time, but recognized that the Santa Sleigh has some immediate benefits. We’ll use it first for the release of Windows97 and Office 97.”

In a multimedia extravaganza, the attendees were shown a seamingly endless video stream of products that make up the deal. It ended with a green and red version of the Microsoft logo, and a new Christmas 97 trademark, leading into the announcement of the first product from the deal. You can also check out Video Production Services near me if you need the best video quality.

Vixen, the new Director of Holidays and Celebrations said, “The first step is to assimilate Christmas within the Microsoft organization. This will take some time, so don’t expect any changes this year.” She continued, “our big plans are for next year, when we release Christmas 97. It will be bigger and better than last year.” She further elaborated that “Windows97 users who sign up with MS Network will get sneak previews of Christmas[97] as early as November first.”

Christmas 97 is scheduled for release in December of 1997, though one unnamed source said that it is dangerously close to the end of the year and may slip into the first half of 1998. An economist at Goldman Sachs explained that a slip would be catostrophic to next year’s economy and the nation’s tax revenue, possibly requiring the IRS to move the deadline for filing income tax returns to three months after Christmas, whenever that was. “But it could be good in the long term,” he explained. “With Microsoft controlling Christmas, we may see it move to May or June, which are much slower months for retailers. This may serve to even out the economy over the year.”

When asked if other holidays are being considered, Mr. Gates explained that “Christmas is the flagship of holidays, so we wanted to start there. Not all holidays are availble for sale, and the remaining will have to show a good long term business,” suggesting that holidays with a short history may not be in the plans.

Though specific terms of the agreement were withheld pending final FTC approval, a Santa official confirmed that the deal was “sizeable, even for a man of Santa’s stature.” Some analysts think that Santa has saturated the Holiday market, and is looking for a means to expand his business to year ’round products and services. Others contend that the Jolly Red Man is looking to retire in Redmond.

Continue ReadingMicrosoft Acquires Christmas

The Net Before Christmas

by Jim Trudeau & Jay Trudeau (1991)

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the nets
Not a mousie was stirring, not even the pets.
The floppies were stacked by the modem with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The files were nestled all snug in a folder
The screen saver turned on, the weather was colder.
And leaving the keyboard along with my mouse
I turned from the screen to the rest of the house.

Continue ReadingThe Net Before Christmas

Things Not to Say When Hanging the Lights

Christmas Tree
Christmas Tree

Author Unknown

Did you know that hanging lights on a Christmas tree is one of the three most stressful situations in an on-going relationship? One Psychiatrist claims the other two danger zones are teaching your mate to drive and wallpapering. He is rarely wrong on these things. We rush to print with an emergency prompt list of Things Not To Say When Hanging Lights on the Christmas Tree.

"You’ve got two red lights right next to each other, dummy. You’re supposed to go yellow, green, red, blue, not yellow, red, red, green, blue…"

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

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

"Come away from that aluminum ladder, kids. I’m going to fry that sucker."

"If you’re not going to do it right, don’t do it at all. Don’t just throw them on, like you do the icicles. You’re worse than your father."

"Give me that!"

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

"I don’t care if you have found another two strings, I’m done!"

"You’ve just wound ’em around and around – I thought we agreed it shouldn’t look like a spiral this year?"

"Have you been drinking?"

"Where’s the cat?"

Continue ReadingThings Not to Say When Hanging the Lights

Company Christmas Party Memo

Santa Bag

author unknown

FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: Everyone
RE: Christmas Party
I’m happy to inform you that the company Christmas Party will take place on December 23, starting at noon in the banquet room at Luigi’s Open Pit Barbecue. No-host bar, but plenty of eggnog! We’ll have a small band playing traditional carols…feel free to sing along. And don’t be surprised if our CEO shows up dressed as Santa Claus!

FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director
RE: Christmas Party
In no way was yesterday’s memo intended to exclude our Jewish employees. We recognize that Chanukah is an important holiday which often coincides with Christmas, though unfortunately not this year. However, from now on we’re calling it our "Holiday Party." The same policy applies to employees who are celebrating Kwanzaa at this time. Happy now?

FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director
RE: Holiday Party
Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous requesting a non-drinking table … you didn’t sign your name. I’m happy to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table that reads, "AA Only"; you wouldn’t be anonymous anymore. How am I supposed to handle this? Somebody?

FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director
RE: Holiday Party
What a diverse company we are! I had no idea that December 20 begins the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which forbids eating, drinking and sex during daylight hours. There goes the party! Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon this time of year does not accommodate our Muslim employees’ beliefs. Perhaps Luigi’s can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the party – the days are so short this time of year or else package everything for take-home in little foil swans. Will that work? Meanwhile, I’ve arranged for members of Overeaters Anonymous to sit farthest from the dessert buffet and pregnant women will get the table closest to the restrooms. Did I miss anything?

FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director
RE: Holiday Party
So December 22 marks the Winter Solstice…what do you expect me to do, a tap-dance on your heads? Fire regulations at Luigi’s prohibit the burning of sage by our "earth-based Goddess-worshipping" employees, but we’ll try to accommodate your shamanic drumming circle during the band’s breaks. Okay???

FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director
Date: December 9
RE: Holiday Party
People, people, nothing sinister was intended by having our CEO dress up like Santa Claus! Even if the anagram of "Santa" does happen to be "Satan," there is no evil connotation to our own "little man in a red suit." It’s a tradition, folks, like sugar shock at Halloween or family feuds over the Thanksgiving turkey or broken hearts on Valentine’s Day. Could we lighten up?

FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director
RE: Holiday Party
Vegetarians!?!?!? I’ve had it with you people!!! We’re going to keep this party at Luigi’s Open Pit Barbecue whether you like it or not, so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill of death," as you so quaintly put it, and you’ll get your #$%^&*! salad bar, including hydroponic tomatoes.. But you know, they have feelings, too. Tomatoes scream when you slice them. I’ve heard them scream. I’m hearing them scream right now!

FROM: Teri Bishop, Acting Human Resources
Director
RE: Pat Lewis and Holiday Party
I’m sure I speak for all of us in wishing Pat Lewis a speedy recovery from her stress-related illness and I’ll continue to forward your cards to her at the sanatorium. In the meantime, management has decided to cancel our Holiday Party and give everyone the afternoon of the 23rd off with full pay.

Continue ReadingCompany Christmas Party Memo

Signs You Won’t Be Receiving a Christmas Bonus This Year

Christmas Gift

Top Ten Lists from LATE SHOW with DAVID LETTERMAN

10. Co-workers refer to you as "the ghost of unemployment future"

9. The last time you saw your boss was when he testified against you at the embezzlement trial.

8. On your door, you find a lovely wreath of pink slips

7. What you call "my new office," everybody else calls "the supply closet"

6. Boss’s Christmas card says, "Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out"

5. You keep getting memos reminding you that employees are required to wear pants

4. When your boss came over for Thanksgiving, he was crushed under avalanche of stolen office supplies

3. Whenever you ask for a raise, a guy shows up at your house and breaks your jaw

2. In your most recent performance evaluation, the word "crap" appeared 78 times

1. You’re the starting quarterback for the Bears.

Continue ReadingSigns You Won’t Be Receiving a Christmas Bonus This Year

‘Twas The Night Before Techmas

Snowman

‘Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence, kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus musculus. Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas. The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebrums.

My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.

Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself – thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a minuscule, aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller.

With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen – "Now Dasher, now Dancer…" et al. – guiding them to the uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities. As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved – with utmost celerity and via a downward leap – entry by way of the smoke passage.

He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle. His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of Albion’s floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.

Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container. He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.

Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about- face, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage.

He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: "Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn."

Continue Reading‘Twas The Night Before Techmas

Top 10 Things That Sound Dirty at Christmas But Aren’t

Ornaments

Author Unknown

10. Did you get any under the tree?

9. I think your balls are hanging too low.

8. Check out Rudolph’s honker!

7. Santa’s sack is really bulging.

6. Lift up the skirt so I can get a clean breath.

5. Did you get a piece of the fruitcake?

4. I love licking the end till it’s really sharp and pointy.

3. From here you can’t tell if they’re artificial or real.

2. Can I interest you in some dark meat?

1. Well, if you can’t get it to stand up straight, try propping it against the wall.

Continue ReadingTop 10 Things That Sound Dirty at Christmas But Aren’t

Fun Ways To Confuse Santa Claus

Author Unknown

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

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

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

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.

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!

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

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.

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

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.

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.”

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.”

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

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

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.

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

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. If people need chimney services, view here and get them best ones in town!

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

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.

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

Continue ReadingFun Ways To Confuse Santa Claus