Merry Christmas n stuff

[Loser]

I've seen a lot of people catch on fire. I've been the responsible, and flammable, party a few times.

I've never seen anyone stop drop and roll. The closest I saw to this was a combusting human on the receiving end of a flying-tackle-into-the-creek.

You can tell kids "Stop, drop and roll." all day long. But until you set them on fire and force them to practice this behavior you will never teach them to stop, drop, and roll.

This public service announcement has been brought to you by The Hacker House: uncontrolled and unsafe bachelor activities for over eight years.

[Wardad]

What if you actually gave your true love the gifts...


Twelve Days of Christmas


December 14, 1997
My dearest darling John:
Who ever in the whole world would dream of getting a real Partridge in a pear Tree? How can I ever express my pleasure. Thank you a hundred times for thinking of me this way.
My love always,
Agnes

December 15, 1997
Dearest John:
Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine two turtle doves. I'm just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just adorable.
All my love,
Agnes

December 16, 1997
Dear John:
Oh! Aren't you the extravagant one. Now I must protest. I don't deserve such generosity, three French hens. They are just darling but I must insist, you've been too kind.
All my love,
Agnes

December 17, 1997
Dear John:
Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really, they are beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough. You are being too romantic.
Affectionately,
Agnes

December 18, 1997
Dearest John:
What a surprise. Today the postman delivered five golden rings, one for every finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, all those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves.
All my love,
Agnes

December 19, 1997
Dear John:
When I opened the door today there were actually six geese laying on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again huh? These geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. Please stop.
Cordially,
Agnes

December 20, 1997
John:
What's with you and those freaking birds?? Seven swans a swimming. What kind of damn joke is this? There's bird poop all over the house and they never stop the racket. I can't sleep at night and I'm a nervous wreck. It's not funny. So stop those freaking birds.
Sincerely,
Agnes

December 21, 1997
O.K. Buster:
I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with 8 maids a milking? It's not enough with all those birds and 8 maids a milking, but they had to bring their damn cows. There is manure all over the place. I can't move in my own house. Just lay off me, smartass.
Agnes

December 22, 1997
Hey S**thead:
What are you.....some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers playing. And Christ do they play. They've never stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are getting upset and they're stepping all over those screeching birds. What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict me.
You'll get yours,
Agnes

December 23, 1997
You Rotten Prick:
Now there's ten ladies dancing. I don't know why I call those ****s ladies. They've been balling those pipers all night long. Now the cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river of ****. The Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm calling the police on you!
Agnes

December 24, 1997
Listen F!!!head:
What's with those eleven lords a leaping on those maids and ladies? Some of those broads will never walk again. Those pipers ran through the maids and have been committing sodomy with the cows. All twenty-three of the birds are dead. They've been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you're satisfied, you rotten vicious swine.
You're sworn enemy,
Agnes

December 25, 1997
Dear Sir:
This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McHolstein. The destruction, of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Miss McHolstein at Happy Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have been instructed to shoot you on sight. With this letter please find attached a warrant for your arrest.
Cordially,
Law Offices of Badger, Bender and Chole

[Wardad]

Funny, try this.

http://www.banditos.info/speles/sobersanta2.swf

Use your arrow keys to guide Santa Clause to his liquor without getting hit by the toy train or touch the electric tracks. Occasionally you have to catch a cupcake or two to sober him up a bit.

[David E. Gervais]

Originally posted by Wardad:
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!
(and Fyron )

hmmm, right back at all of you. (and Fyron)

Cheers!

P.S. btw fyron, you are not an afterthought, quite the contrary. you're in a class above us all with your astronomical post count. (I would guess that you look down on Olympus and need some kind of vision enhancement to see us way way down here. )

[narf poit chez BOOM]

Swiss army Fyron????

[Kamog]

Wardad, that 12 Days of Christmas post is really funny! Yeah, those gifts are really strange when you think about it. Especially the 11 lords a-leaping! What kind of gift is that???

[narf poit chez BOOM]

well, it would probably help if you had a castle to put them in.

[geoschmo]

CHRISTMAS COOKIE RECIPE


Ingredients:

1 cup of water
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup of sugar
1 tsp salt
1 cup of brown sugar
lemon juice
4 large eggs
1 cup nuts
2 cups of dried fruit
1 bottle Jose Cuervo Tequila

Directions:

Sample the Cuervo to check quality. Take a large bowl,
check the Cuervo again, to be sure it is of the highest quality, pour
one level cup and drink.

Turn on the electric mixer...Beat one cup of butter in
a large fluffy bowl. Add one teaspoon of sugar...Beat again. At this
point it's best to make sure the Cuervo is still OK, try another cup
... just in case.

Turn off the mixerer thingy. Break 2 leggs and add to
the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit, Pick the frigging fruit off
floor... Mix on the turner. If the fried druit gets stuck in the
beaterers just pry it loose with a drewscriver. Sample the Cuervo to check
for tonsisticity.

Next, sift two cups of salt, or something. Who giveshz
a sheet. Check the Jose Cuervo. Now shift the lemon juice and strain
your nuts. Add one table. Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you
can find.

Greash the oven.

Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall
over. Don't forget to beat off the turner. Finally, throw the bowl through
the window, finish the Cose Juervo and make sure to put the stove in the
dishwasher.

CHERRY MISTMAS

[geoschmo]

The Best Christmas Song Ever!

Bob Rivers - The Twelve Pains of Christmas

[Wardad]

RednecK Christmas Carol

'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!