If Santa answered his mail honestly...
----------
Dear Santa
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur fer Xmas. Iv bena gud boy all
yeer.
Yer Frend,
BiLLy
Dear Billy,
Nice spelling. You're on your way to a career in lawn care. How
about I send you a fucking book so you can learn to read and
write? I'm giving your older brother the space ranger. At least
HE can spell!
Santa
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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,
You're parents smoked pot when they had you, didn't they?
Santa
----------
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,
Look, your dad's banging the babysitter like a screen door in a
hurricane. Do you think he's gonna give that up to come back to
your fat mom, who rides his ass constantly? It's time to give up
that dream. Let me get you some nice Legos instead.
Santa
----------
Dear Santa,
I want a new bike, a 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? I bet you're gay.
Santa
----------
Dear Santa,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left
carrots for your reindeer outside the back door.
Love,
Susan
Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the runs and carrots make the deer fart in my face
when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Leave me a
bottle of scotch.
Santa
----------
Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy
making toys?
Your friend,
Thomas
Dear Thomas,
All the toys are made in China. I have a condo in Vegas, where I
spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind by
drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail
waitresses while losing money at the craps table. Hey, you
wanted to know.
Santa
----------
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,
Are you really that gullible? Good luck in whatever you do. I'm
skipping your house.
Santa
----------
Dear Santa,
I really really want a puppy this year. Please please please
PLEASE PLEASE could I have one?
Timmy
Timmy,
That whiney begging shit may work with your folks, but that crap
doesn't work with me. You're getting a sweater again.
Santa
----------
Dearest Santa,
We don't have a chimney in our house, how do you get into our
home?
Love,
Marky
Mark,
First, stop calling yourself "Marky", that's why you're getting
your ass whipped at school. Second, you don't live in a house,
you live in a low-rent apartment complex. Third, I get inside
your pad just like all the burglars do, through your bedroom
window.
Sweet Dreams,
Santa
Showing posts with label santa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label santa. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Santa's Ode
'Twas the night before Christmas--Old Santa was pissed.
He cussed out the elves and threw down his list.
Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks.
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works!
I've busted my ass for damn near a year.
Instead of "Thanks Santa"--what do I hear?
The old lady bitches cause I work late at night.
The elves want more money--The reindeer all fight.
Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids.
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS.
And just when I thought that things would get better,
Those assholes from the IRS sent me a letter.
They say I owe taxes--if that ain't damn funny
Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money?
And the kids these days--they all are the pits.
They want the impossible--Those mean little shits.
I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds,
Assembling dolls...Their arms, legs and heads.
I made a ton of yo yo's--No request for them,
They want computers and robots...they think I'm IBM!
Flying through the air...dodging the trees,
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees,
I'm quitting this job there's just no enjoyment.
I'll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment.
There's no Christmas this year now you know the reason,
I found me a blonde. I'm going SOUTH for the season
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Tiger Woods' Holiday Poem
Twas the night of Thanksgiving and out of the house
Tiger Woods he came flying, chased by his spouse.
She wielded a nine iron and wasn’t too merry,
Because a bimbo’s phone number she found on his blackberry.
He’d been cheating on poor little Elin,
And as each day went by another whore came out squealing.
He’d been on Holly, on Jaimee, on Rachel, on Cori,
On Joselyn, and Kalika, TMZ had the story.
From the top of the world to above the fold,
Tiger’s ever more sordid tale, it was told.
With hostesses, waitresses, he had lots of sex,
And when he wasn’t hosing them, he sent them hot texts.
He crashed his Caddy, but didn’t call OnStar,
Yet he played “spank me daddy” with a skanky old porn star.
He’s been naughty, so with Santa he hasn’t a chance,
Except the big lump of coal that matches the lump in his pants.
But despite all his crying and begging and pleading,
Tiger’s wife went right out, bought a new home in Sweden.
And I heard her exclaim as she packed up the Escalade,
If you’re going to get laid, then I’m going to get paid.
Now she’s not pouting, in fact she’s of good cheer,
Because her prenup made Christmas come early this year.
Tiger Woods he came flying, chased by his spouse.
She wielded a nine iron and wasn’t too merry,
Because a bimbo’s phone number she found on his blackberry.
He’d been cheating on poor little Elin,
And as each day went by another whore came out squealing.
He’d been on Holly, on Jaimee, on Rachel, on Cori,
On Joselyn, and Kalika, TMZ had the story.
From the top of the world to above the fold,
Tiger’s ever more sordid tale, it was told.
With hostesses, waitresses, he had lots of sex,
And when he wasn’t hosing them, he sent them hot texts.
He crashed his Caddy, but didn’t call OnStar,
Yet he played “spank me daddy” with a skanky old porn star.
He’s been naughty, so with Santa he hasn’t a chance,
Except the big lump of coal that matches the lump in his pants.
But despite all his crying and begging and pleading,
Tiger’s wife went right out, bought a new home in Sweden.
And I heard her exclaim as she packed up the Escalade,
If you’re going to get laid, then I’m going to get paid.
Now she’s not pouting, in fact she’s of good cheer,
Because her prenup made Christmas come early this year.
Monday, December 14, 2009
A Christmas Poem by Paul Gilmartin
A Christmas Poem by Paul Gilmartin
Eggnog, tinsel, falling snow
Buttered rum and mistletoe
Christmas trees and hanging lights
The sound of carolers fills the night
Shopping hours long and hard
Visa phones and cancels card
Unpaid bills and mounting debts
Family gathers; depressions sets
Drinking starts, harsh words are said
Dysfunction rears its yuletide head
Argument turns to shovin'
Drunken brother punches cousin
Tree tips over, popping lights
Curtains catch, house ignites
No one hears the reindeer cries
Wedged in chimney, Santa dies
Though he kicked and did perspire
His chestnuts roasted on an open fire
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Santa's Bad Day - the Birth Of a Tradition
One particular Christmas season a long time ago, Santa was getting ready for his annual trip, but there were problems everywhere. Four of his elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones so Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.
Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more.
When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. More stress.
Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked, and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys.
So, frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered that the elves had hidden the liquor, and there was nothing to drink. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider pot, and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw end of the broom. Just then the doorbell rang, and irritable Santa trudged to the door. He opened the door, and there was a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.
The angel said, very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't it a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?"
Thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.
Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more.
When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. More stress.
Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked, and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys.
So, frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered that the elves had hidden the liquor, and there was nothing to drink. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider pot, and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw end of the broom. Just then the doorbell rang, and irritable Santa trudged to the door. He opened the door, and there was a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.
The angel said, very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't it a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?"
Thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.
Monday, December 7, 2009
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