Christmas Carols for the Dysfunctional

SCHIZOPHRENIA:
Do you Hear What I Hear?

MULTIPLE PERSONALITY DISORDER:
We Three Queens Disoriented Are

DEMENTIA:
I Think I'll Be Home for Christmas

NARCISSISTIC:
Hark the Herald Angels Sing About Me

MANIC:
Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and
Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Buses and Trucks and
Trees and Fire Hydrants and...

PARANOID:
Santa Claus is Coming to Get Me.

PERSONALITY DISORDER:
You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll tell you Why.

OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE DISORDER:
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock.... (better start
again)

PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE PERSONALITY:
On the First Day of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me (and then took it all away).

It's Christmas Eve, and Santa arrives in the ghetto.He jumps down
the chimney and is met by a small child who is caught by surprise.

Santa bellows out a hearty "Ho, Ho, Ho!" before opening his pack.

Hearing Santa's words, the little boy runs through the living room
and hollers,"Mom, it's for you!".

Christmas Party

How To Tell If You're Throwing A Successful Christmas Party

- Festivity Level One -

Your guests are sitting around chatting, nibbling the party food, sipping their drinks. They are admiring your Christmas tree ornaments and stand around the piano singing carols.

- Festivity Level Two -

Your guests are talking loudly, occasionally to one another. They are wolfing down the food, gulping their drinks, rearranging your Christmas ornaments and sitting on the piano singing "I Gotta Be Me."

- Festivity Level Three -

Your guests are holding conversations with inanimate objects, gulping other peoples' drinks, wolfing down Christmas ornaments and dancing around the piano shouting the words to "I Can't Get No Satisfaction."

- Festivity Level Four -

Your guests, food smeared across their naked bodies, are capering around the burning Christmas tree in some unholy ritual. The piano is missing.

Unless you rent your home, or own heavy firearms, you generally don't want your parties operating above Level Three. The true test of party success, however, is whether or not the police arrive. If they do arrive, your job as host is to see that they don't arrest anyone. If they are intent on arresting someone, your job is to see that it isn't you. Following is an example of how to successfully handle this situation:

Police: "We've come in response to the complaints."

You: "Complaints? It isn't about the drugs, is it?"

Police: "No, sir, not drugs."

You: "The guns, then? They're complaining about the guns?"

Police: "No, sir. It's about the noise."

You: "Oh that's all right then. 'Cause there sure aren't any guns or drugs here, heh heh."

[An explosion sounds somewhere behind you]

You: "Or fireworks either! The neighbors complained, did they?"

Police: "No, sir. The neighbors all fled inland hours ago. The recent complaints have come from Iowa."

[At this point a Volkswagen Bug, painted in various arcane symbols, roars out of the living room, down the hall past you and the policemen, out into the front yard and into the nearest tree. Eight naked bodies tumble out, moaning.]

THINGS THAT SOUND DIRTY AT THANKSGIVING, BUT AREN'T...

"Whew, that's one terrific spread!"

"I'm in the mood for a little dark meat."

"Tying the legs together keeps the inside moist."

"Talk about a huge breast!"

"It's Cool Whip time!"

"If I don't undo my pants, I'll burst!"

"Are you ready for seconds yet?"

"Are you going to come again next time?"

"It's a little dry, do you still want to eat it?"

"Just wait your turn, you'll get some!"

"Don't play with your meat."

"Just spread the legs open & stuff it in."

"I didn't expect everyone to come at once!"

"You still have a little bit on your chin."

"How long will it take after you stick it in?"

"You'll know it's ready when it pops up."

"How many are coming?"

"That's the biggest one I've ever seen!"

"How long do I beat it before it's ready?"

Fester the Gangreen Reindeer

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen,
Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen,
But do you remember him,
The only reindeer missing a limb.

Fester the Gangreen Reindeer had a bad infected leg,
So they amputated it, and replaced it with a peg,
All of the other reindeer used to laugh in Fester's face,
They wouldn't let poor Fester park in a good wheelchair space.

The Night Before Impeachment

Twas The Night Before Impeachment, when all through the House,
All the Congress was stirring, even Conyers, the louse.
The Articles were hung by the Capitol with care,
In hopes that Saint Bubba would be trapped in the lair.

The Republicans were nestled, all smug with The Feds,
While visions of perjury danced in their heads.
And Barr with his rhetoric and Hyde with his trap,
Had just settled in for a long evening's nap.
When out in The Gulf, there arose such a clatter
They clicked on CNN to see what was the matter.
When what to their wondering eyes should appear
But Tomahawk cruise missiles flying like reindeer.

With a Presidential address, so lively and quick,
They knew in a moment, it must be Saint Slick!
More rapid than eagles, his supporters they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Conyers, now Gephardt, let's forget about The Vixen!
On Barney! On Maxine! I'm no Richard Nixon!!!"
"From Capitol Hill to the Washington Mall,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all !!!"

And then the Republicans heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As they scratched their heads and were turning around
The resilient Saint Willie scored another rebound.
No longer was he eating from his humble pie,
While assaulting Saddam with his bombs from the sky.
A bundle of weapons he had flung at Iraq,
It looked once again like Slick Willie was back.

On the twelveth day of AOL those Bozos gave to me:

12 reasons to cancel,

11 channels not working,

10 hours without mail

9 frozen chat rooms,

8 hours of busy signals,

7 frozen IMs,

6 disconnections,

5 web crashes,

4 idiots at tech

3 error messages

2 pieces of junk mail (just 2?)

Christmas phrase that sounds dirty but are not:

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 your skirt so I can get a clean breath.

5. Did you get a piece of 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?

And the No. 1 Christmas phrase that sounds dirty but isn't:

Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Everyone felt shitty
Even the mouse

With mom at the whore house
And dad smoking grass
I had just settled down
For a nice piece of ass

When out on the lawn
there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my piece
to see what was the matter

Then up in the air
I saw a big dick
I knew in a flash
it must be St. Nickl

He came down the chimney
like a bat out of hell
I knew right away
that the fat fucker fell

He filled the stockings
with doobies and beerA
nd a big rubber dick
for my brother the queer

He went up the chimney
and blew a big fart
The son of a bitch
blew the chimney apart

10. Put a 20 dollar bill in your letter.

9. Put axle grease on the roof and watch them reindeer and Santa fall.

8. Add some laxitives to the cookie batter and santa will hope his magic can get him to the bathroom fast.

7. Get a set of wild dogs and don't feed them and on Christmas Eve set them under the chimney of course they wont eat but that'll sure send his fat butt back up it.

6. Make a tape of you and your friends singing christmas carols as loud as you can and leave it playing. You probably think he loves them but he hears them all the time so it probably gets annoying.

5. Set his reindeer free.

4. Switch the lists so that the nice kids get the crap and the naughty ones get the good stuff.

3. Put a mix of mayo and peanut butter in the stockings and when he pulls his hand out it will be all nasty.

2. Catch his sleigh on fire.

The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat.

The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat.

The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook,

It was time for some for some pussy, fuck reading that book.

Momma in her teddy, and I in the nude,

Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube.

When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,

That I lost my boner and momma went dry.

Up to the window I sprang like an elf,

Tore back the shade while she played with herself.

The moon on the crest of the snowman we'd built,

Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.

With a fat little driver, half out of his sled,

A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head.

Sure as I'm speaking, he was as high as a kite

And he yelled to his team, but it didn't sound right.

"Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, hey Dickfore, whoa Putz,

Either slow down this rig or I'll cut off your nuts."

"Look out for the lamp post, and don't hit the tree,

Quit shaking the sleigh, 'cause I gotta go pee.

They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,

Just as Santa leaned out and puked on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard something splatter,

As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.

I put on my jacket to cover my ass,

When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.

His suit was all covered with dip spit galore,

He looked like a bum and smelled like a whore.

"I'm all fuckin' shit-canned ," he said with a smile,

"And Rudolf was farting the last half-a mile."

He walked to the kitchen, for himself poured a drink,

Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.

I started to laugh, as my wife turned around

Santa was hung half way to the ground.

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,

But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.

The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,

The next was a manual on how to pop zits.

A dime bag of reefer was Santa's next find,

And a six pair of panties, the edible kind.

A boarding school pisser, a penis extension,

And several other things that I can't even mention.

A cock ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,

And a bong that was wrapped with aluminium foil.

"This stuff's not for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit,

So I'll leave it all here, and then I'll just split."

He filled both our stockings, looked at my wife's cleave.

And tucked my son's crack pipe up under his sleeve.

He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,

Made it out of the chimney, on my roof smacked his head.

In time he was seated, took the reigns of his hitch,

Saying, "Take me home, Rudolph, the night's been a bitch!"

The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,

Angels atop the christmas tree tradition

It was a starry night and the snowflakes drifted down gently. The snowcrust sparkled in the lamplight at the North Pole. Sleigh bells jingled in the distance. It was supposed to be a happy time, but it wasn't.

Santa was really pissed off. It was Christmas Eve and NOTHING was going right. Mrs. Claus had burned all the Christmas cookies. The elves were bitching about not getting paid for the overtime they had put in while making toys. And to top it all off, the reindeer had been drinking all afternoon and were completely useless. They had taken the sleigh out for a spin earlier in the day and crashed it into a tree, breaking off one of the runners. They were still stumbling around outside, giggling and shaking their sleigh bells. Santa was redder than usual with anger. He drank another slug of scotch, and then bellowed, "I CAN'T believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over the world in just a few hours from now and all my reindeer are drunk, my elves are on strike and I don't even have a Christmas tree! AND I sent that stupid little angel out HOURS ago to find a tree and he isn't even back yet! What the HELL am I going to do?"

Santa Must Be a She

I think Santa Claus is a woman....

I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he is 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. It's as if they are all frozen in some kind of Ebenezerian Time Warp until 3 p.m. on Dec. 24th, when they - with amazing calm - call other errant men
and plan for a last-minute shopping spree. Once at the store, they always seem surprised to find only extra-small sweaters, Ronco products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. (You might think this would send them into a fit of panic and guilt, but my something tells me it's an enormous relief because it lessens the 11th hour decision-making burden.) 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. 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.

Add to this the fact that there would be unavoidable delays in the chimney, where the Bob Vila-like Santa would stop to inspect and repaint bricks in the flue. He would also need to check for carbon monoxide fumes in every gas fireplace, and get under
every Christmas tree that is crooked to straighten it to a perfectly upright 90-degree angle.

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 bowl full 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.

I can buy the fact that other mythical holiday characters are men.......

Father Time shows up once a year unshaven and looking ominous. Definite guy.

Cupid flies around carrying weapons.

Uncle Sam is a politician who likes to point fingers.

Any one of these individuals could pass the testosterone screening test.

But not St. Nick. Not a chance.

But as long as we have each other, good will, peace on earth, faith and Nat King Cole's version of The Christmas Song, it probably makes little difference what gender Santa is.

Q: What do rednecks do on Halloween?

A: Pump kin.

Geriatric Halloween

There was an old couple who hadn't celebrated Halloween in a long time, so they decided to dress up and go out.

The old woman went in her bedroom, stripped naked, and tied a string between her legs with a lemon at the end of the string.

When she walked out of the room her husband yelled, "You can't go out like that!"

"I can go out as whatever I want and so can you!" T

he man agreed and went into his room. Soon he came out naked with a string tied to his penis and a potato at the end of the string.