Archive for December, 2012

Santa’s Helpers

When four of Santa’s elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure.

Then Mrs. Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more.

When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where.

Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered.

Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drunk all the cider and hidden the liquor.

In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.

Just then the doorbell rang, and an irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.

The angel said very cheerfully, ‘Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn’t this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?’

And thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

Not very many people know this.

Bitter Sweet

THESE ARE ENTRIES TO A WASHINGTON POST COMPETITION ASKING FOR A TWO-LINE RHYME WITH THE MOST ROMANTIC FIRST LINE, AND THE LEAST ROMANTIC SECOND LINE:

1.  My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife:
Marrying you has screwed up my life..

2.  I see your face when I am dreaming.
That’s why I always wake up screaming.

3.  Kind, intelligent, loving and hot;
This  describes everything you are not.

4.  Love may be beautiful, love may be bliss,
But I only slept with you ’cause I was pissed.

5.  I thought that I could love no other
—  that is, until I met your brother.

6.  Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are  you.
But  the roses are wilting, the violets are dead, the sugar bowl’s
empty, and so is your head.

7.  I want to feel your sweet embrace;
But don’t take that paper bag off your face.

8.  I love your smile, your face, and your eyes.
Damn, I’m good at telling lies!

9.  My love, you take my breath away.
What have you stepped in to smell this way?

10.  My feelings for you no words can tell,
Except for maybe ‘Go to hell.’

11.  What inspired this amorous rhyme?
Two parts vodka, one part lime..

WHO SAID POETRY IS BORING?

Norwegian Virgin Wedding

Olof Swenson, out in his pasture in northern  Minnesota , took a lightning-quick kick from a cow…right in his  crotch. Writhing in agony, he fell to the  ground.
As soon as he could manage, he took himself to  the doctor.

He said: “How bad is it Doc? I’m going on my  honeymoon next veek and my fiance, Lena , is still a Virgin — in  every vay.”
The doctor told him, “Olof, I’ll have to put  your willy in a splint to let it heal, and keep it straight. It  should be okay next week, but leave it
on dere as long as you  can.”

He took 4 tongue depressors and formed a neat little 4 sided splint, and taped it all together…quite an  impressive work of art.
Olof mentioned none of this to Lena , married  her, and they went on their honeymoon to Duluth.

That night in the Motel 6, Lena ripped open  her blouse to reveal her beautiful, untouched breasts. She said:  “Olof…you’re the first vun!
No vun has EVER seen  deez.”

Olof immediately dropped his pants and  replied: “Look at dis Lena …
still in DA  CRATE!”

How do you feel about getting older?

As I’ve aged, I’ve become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself.
I’ve become my own friend.
 
I have seen too many dear friends leave this world, too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.
 
Whose business is it, if I choose to read, or play, on the computer, until 4 AM, or sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 50, 60 &70’s, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love, I will.
 
I will walk the beach, in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves, with abandon, if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set.
They, too, will get old.
 
I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And, I eventually remember the important things.
 
Sure, over the years, my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break, when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody’s beloved pet gets hit by a car? But, broken hearts are what give us strength, and understanding, and compassion. A heart never broken, is pristine, and sterile, and will never know the joy of being imperfect.
 
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed , and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.
 
As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don’t question myself anymore. I’ve even earned the right to be wrong.
 
So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it).