Christmas Jokes

More Christmas Jokes

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. Clause 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 were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out who 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 coffee and a shot of whiskey. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered that the elves had hid the liquor and there was nothing to drink. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the coffee 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 it was made from. Just then, the doorbell rang and Santa cussed on his way 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 just a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Isn't it just a lovely tree? Where would you like me to stick it?" Thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

It was slightly before Thanksgiving. The trip went reasonably well, and he was ready to go back. The airport on the other end had turned a tacky red and green, and loudspeakers blared annoying elevator renditions of cherished Christmas carols. Being someone who took Christmas very seriously, and being slightly tired, he was not in a particularly good mood. Going to check in his luggage (which, for some reason, had become one suitcase with entirely new clothes), he saw hanging mistletoe.

Not real mistletoe, but very cheap plastic with red paint on some of the rounder parts and green paint on some of the flatter and pointier parts, that could be taken for mistletoe only in a very Picasso sort of way. With a considerable degree of irritation and nowhere else to vent it, he said to the attendant, "Even if I were not married, I would not want to kiss you under such a ghastly mockery of mistletoe." "Sir, look more closely at where the mistletoe is." (pause) "Ok, I see that it's above the luggage scale, which is the place you'd have to step forward for a kiss." "That's not why it's there." (pause) "Ok, I give up. Why is it there?"

"It's there so you can kiss your luggage goodbye."

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

You think you got it bad.

All night long, soot in the chimneys, smelly socks, cross dogs, shot at, mistaken for a stork, driving all night in the snow, damn near killed in the backwash of a 757, Mrs. Claus pissed off, I got in too late.

AND THAT ISN'T ALL

Donner and Blitzen and Rudolph got the shits over Albuquerque and you should see my suit. The damn elves won't clean the sleigh unless I pay them double time.

I am so sick of cookies and milk, I could vomit. The only highball I had all night is when I slipped getting out of the sleigh.

My prostrate is giving me hell, pissed my pants at 20,000 feet and froze to the seat. Allergic to pine needles, I itch all over. I think my hemorrhoids are back.

HO! HO! HO!

Merry Christmas, my ass!

Xmas shopping

Late last week, I was rushing around trying to get some last minute shopping done.

I was stressed out and not thinking very fondly of the Christmas season right then. It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking lot as I was loading my car up with gifts that I felt obligated to buy. I noticed that I was missing a receipt that I might need later. So mumbling under my breath, I retraced my steps to the mall entrance.

As I was searching the wet pavement for the lost receipt, I heard a quiet sobbing. The crying was coming from a poorly dressed boy of about 12 years old.

He was short and thin. He had no coat. He was just wearing a ragged flannel shirt to protect him from the cold night's chill.

Oddly enough, he was holding a hundred dollar bill in his hand. Thinking that he had gotten lost from his parents, I asked him what was wrong. He told me his sad story. He said that he came from a large family. He had three brothers and four sisters. His father had died when he was nine years old. His mother was poorly educated and worked two full time jobs. She made very little to support her large family.

Nevertheless, she had managed to skimp and save two hundred dollars to buy her children Christmas presents. The young boy had been dropped off, by his mother, on the way to her second job. He was to use the money to buy presents for all his siblings and save just enough to take the bus home. He had not even entered the mall, when an older boy grabbed one of the hundred dollar bills and disappeared into the night.

"Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked.

The boy said, "I did."

"And nobody came to help you?" I wondered.

The boy stared at the sidewalk and sadly shook his head.

"How loud did you scream?" I inquired.

The soft-spoken boy looked up and meekly whispered, "Help me!"

I realized that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry for help. So I grabbed his other hundred and ran to my car.

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