holidays

Chanukah Song (Version One)

Chanukah Candles

Adam Sandler

Put on your yarmulke
It’s time for Chanukah
So much fun-uka
To celebrate Chanukah

Chanukah is, the festival of lights
Instead of one day of presents
We get eight crazy nights

When you fell like the only kid in town
Without a Christmas tree
Here’s a list of people who are Jewish
Just like you and me

David Lee Roth lights the menorah
So does James Concord Douglas and the late Dina Shora
Guess who eats together at the Carnegie Deli
Bowser from Sha NaNa and Arthur Fonzerelli.

Ponoman’s half Jewish, Goldie Hawn’s half, too.
Put them together, what a fine looking Jew

You don’t need deck the halls or Jingle Bell Rock
‘Cuz you can spin a dreidel with Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock
Both Jewish!

O.J. Simpson, not a Jew
But guess who is? Hall of Famer Rod Carew

We got Ann Landers and her sister Dear Abby
Harrison Ford’s a quarter Jewish –
Not too shabby

Some people think that Ebenezer Scrooge is Jewish
Well he’s not, but guess who is?
All three stooges

So many Jews are in show biz
Tom Cruise isn’t, but I heard his agent is

Tell your friend Veronica
It’s time to celebrat Chanukah
Don’t forget harmonica
On this lovely, lovely Chanukah
So drink your gin and tonic-a
And smoke your maraijuana-ca
If you really, really, really, really wanna-ka
Have a happy, happy, happy, happy, Chanukah

Happy Chanukah

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The Three Wise Firefighters

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Three Wise Men
Three Wise Men

Author Unknown

In a small southern town there was a nativity scene that showed great skill and talent had gone into creating it. However, one small feature bothered me. The three wise men were wearing firemen’s helmets. Totally unable to come up with a reason or explanation, I left.

At a Quik Stop on the edge of town, I asked the lady behind the counter about the helmets. She exploded into a rage, yelling at me, "You Yankees never do read the Bible!" I assured her that I did, but simply couldn’t recall anything about firemen in the Bible.

She got her Bible from behind the counter and ruffled thru some pages, and finally jabbed her finger at a passage. Sticking it in my face she said, "See, it says right here, ‘The three wise men came from afar.’"

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Home for the Holidays

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p class=”author”>Author Unknown

A man in Florida, in his 80s, calls his son in New York. The father says to the son, "I hate to tell you, but we’ve got some troubles here in the house. Your mother and I can’t stand each other anymore, and we’re getting a divorce. I’ve had it! I want to live out the rest of my years in peace. I’m telling you now, so you and your sister shouldn’t go into shock later when I move out."

He hangs up, and the son immediately calls his sister in the Hamptons and tells her the news. The sister says, "I’ll handle this!"

She calls Florida and says to her father, "Don’t do ANYTHING until we get there! We’ll be there Wednesday night."

The father agrees, "All right." He hangs up the phone and hollers to his wife, "Okay, they’re coming for Thanksgiving. Now, what are we going to tell them for Christmas?"

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All I Need To Know About Life I Learned From The Easter Bunny

All I Need To Know About Life I Learned From The Easter Bunny
1. Don’t put all of your eggs in one basket
2. Walk softly and carry a big carrot
3. Everyone needs a friend who is all ears
4. There’s no such thing as too much candy
5. All work and no play can make you a basket case
6. A cute little tail attracts a lot of attention
7. Everyone is entitled to a bad hare day
8. Let happy thoughts multiply like rabbits
9. Some body parts should be floppy
10. Keep your paws off other people’s jellybeans
11. Good things come in small, sugar-coated packages
12. The grass is always greener in someone else’s basket
13. An Easter bonnet can tame even the wildest hare
14. To show your true colors you have to come out of your shell
15. The best things in life are still sweet and gooey

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Jesus is the reason for the season

There were no riots over the fact that the wrong man is President of the United States, but in Portland, they had a riot because people wanted to see fireworks on New Year’s Eve. I think the people in Portland are a bit dim.

Also, it wasn’t a holy-roller that put the “Jesus is the reason for the season” plastic disk thingy under my windshield and almost killed me. It was my friend Dan. He thought it was funny that I was almost killed. Needless to say, revenge is in order. If I have time.

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The X (mas) Files

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Author Unknown

Mulder: We’re too late. It’s already been here.

Scully: Mulder, I hope you know what you are doing.

Mulder: Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas fir, truncated, mounted,
transformed into some sort of shrine; halls decked with boughs of holly; stockings
hung by the chimney, with care.

Scully: You really think someone’s been here?

Mulder: Someone or some THING.

Scully: Mulder, over here — its fruitcake.

Mulder: Don’t touch it! Those things can be lethal.

Scully: It’s O.K. there’s a note attached: "Gonna find out who’s naughty and
nice."

Mulder: It’s judging them, Scully. It’s making a list.

Scully: Who? What are you talking about?

Mulder: Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity that could travel at
great speed in a craft powered by antlered servants. Once each year, near the winter
solstice, this creature is said to descend from the heavens to reward its followers
and punish its disbeliveers with jagged chunks of anthracite.

Scully: But that’s legend, Mulder – a story told by parents to frighten children.
Surely, you don’t believe it?

Mulder: Something was here tonight, Scully. Check out the bite marks on this gingerbread
man. Whatever tore through this plate of cookies was massive — and in a hurry.

Scully: It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder, this milk glass has been completely
drained.

Mulder: It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without remorse.

Scully: But why would they leave it milk and cookies?

Mulder: Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can stop its wilding.

Scully: But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The doors and windows were
locked. There’s no sign of forced entry.

Mulder: Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace.

Scully: Wait a minute, Mulder. If you are saying some huge creature landed on the
roof and came down the chimney, you’re crazy. The flue is barely six inches wide. Nothing could get through there.

Mulder: But what if it could alter its shape, move in all directions.

Scully: You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?

Mulder: Exactly. Scully, I’ve never told anyone this, but when I was a child my home
was visited. I saw the creature. It had long white strips of fur surrounding its
ruddy, misshapen head. Its bloated torso was red and white. I’ll never forget the
horror. I turned away, and when I looked back it had somehow taken on the facial
features of my father.

Scully: Impossible.

Mulder: I know what I saw. And that night it read my mind. It brought me a Mr. Potato
Head, Scully. IT KNEW I WANTED A MR. POTATO HEAD.

Scully: I’m sorry, Mulder, but you’re asking me to disregard the laws of physics.
You want me to believe in some supernatural being who soars across the skies and
brings gifts to good little girls and boys. Listen to what you are saying. Do you understand the repercussions? If this gets out, they’ll
close the X-files.

Mulder: Scully, listen to me: It knows when you are sleeping. It knows when you’re
awake.

Scully: But we have no proof.

Mulder: Last year, on this exact date, S.E.T.I. radio telescopes detected bogeys
in the airspace over twenty-seven states. The White House ordered a Condition Red.

Scully: But that was a meteor shower.

Mulder: Officially. Two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian reindeer vanished from
the National Zoo in Washington, D.C. No one, not even the zookeeper, was told about
it. The government doesn’t want people to know about Project Kringle. They fear that if this thing were proved to exist, then
the public would stop spending half its annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy.
Retail markets will collapse. Scully, they cannot let the world believe this creature
lives. There’s too much at stake. They’ll do whatever it takes to insure another
silent night.

Scully: Mulder, I —

Mulder: Sh-h-h! Do you hear what I hear?

Scully: On the roof. It sounds like . . .a clatter.

Mulder: The truth is up there. Let’s see what’s the matter.

Continue ReadingThe X (mas) Files

Down South Valentine

author unknown

Kudzu is green,
my dog’s name is Blue
And I’m so lucky
to have a sweet thang like you.

Yore hair is like cornsilk
A-flapping in the breeze.
Softer than Blue’s
And without all them fleas.

You move like the bass,
Which excite me in May.
You ain’t got no scales
But I luv you anyway.

You’re as graceful as okry
Jist a-dancin’ in the pan.
Yo’re as fragrant as SunDrop
Right out of the can.

You have all yore teeth,
For which I am proud;
I hold my head high
When we’re in a croud.

On special occasions,
When you shave yore armpits,
Well, I’m in hawg heaven,
I’m plumb outta wits.

And speakin’ of wits,
You’ve got plenty fer shore.
‘Cuz you married me
Back in ’74.

Still them fellers at work
They all want to know,
What I did to deserve
Such a purty, young doe.

Like a good roll of duct tape
Yo’re there fer yore man,
To patch up life’s troubles
And stick ’em in the can.

Yo’re as strong as a four-wheeler
Racin’ through the mud,
Yet fragile as that sanger
Named Naomi Judd.

Yo’re as cute as a junebug
A-buzzin’ overhead.
You ain’t mean like no far ant
Upon which I oft’ tread.

Cut from the best pattern
Like a flannel shirt of plaid,
You sparked up my life
Like a Rattletrap shad.

When you hold me real tight
Like a padded gunrack,
My life is complete;
Ain’t nuttin’ I lack.

Yore complexion, it’s perfection,
Like the best vinyl sidin’.
Despite all the years,
Yore age, it keeps hidin’.

And when you get old
Like a ’67 Chevy,
Won’t put you on blocks
And let grass grow up heavy.

Me ‘n’ you’s like a Moon Pie
With a RC cold drank,
We go together
Like a skunk goes with stank.

Some men, they buy chocolate
For Valentine’s Day;
They git it at Wal-Mart,
It’s romantic that way.

Some men git roses
On that special day
From the cooler at Kroger.
"That’s impressive," I say.

Some men buy fine diamonds
From a flea market booth.
"Diamonds are forever,"
They explain, suave and couth.

But for this man, honey,
These will not do.
For you are too special,
You sweet thang you.

I got you a gift,
Without taste nor odor,
Better than diamonds
it’s a new trollin’ motor.

Continue ReadingDown South Valentine

Does Santa Exist? A Scientific Inquiry

Author Unknown

As a result of an overwhelming lack of requests, and with research help from that renowned scientific journal, SPY magazine (January, 1997) — I am pleased to present a scientific inquiry into the existence of Santa Claus.

1. No known species of reindeer can fly. But there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects and germs, this does not completely rule out flying reindeer which only Santa has ever seen.

2. There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. But since Santa doesn’t (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total – 378 million according to Population Reference Bureau.

At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that’s 91.8 million homes. One presumes there’s at least one good child in each.

3. Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second.

This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to:

  • park,
  • hop out of the sleigh,
  • jump down the chimney,
  • fill the stockings,
  • distribute the remaining presents under the tree,
  • eat whatever snacks have been left,
  • get back up the chimney,
  • get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house.

Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31hours, plus feeding and etc.

This means that Santa’s sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man- made vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second. A conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

4. The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" could pull ten times the normal amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine.

We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload – not even counting the weight of the sleigh – to 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison – this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth.

5. 353,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance – this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as a spacecraft reentering the earth’s atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake.

The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second.

Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.09 times greater than gravity.

A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.

In conclusion – If Santa ever did deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he’s dead now.

Continue ReadingDoes Santa Exist? A Scientific Inquiry

Twas the Dieter’s Christmas

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christmas cookies

author unknown

T’was the night before Christmas and all round my hips
were Fannie 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 my 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 Prancer, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS
a Weight Watcher dropout from 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 for the night
in the morning I’ll starve…’til I take that first bite!

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