Instead of ornaments, decorate your tree with Easter eggs.
Our local department store had two Santas—one for
regular kids and one for kids that wanted ten toys or less.
—MILTON BERLE
Aren't we forgetting the true meaning of Christmas,
the birth of Santa?
—BART SIMPSON
Santa Claus goes by many names…Kris Kringle,
Saint Nicholas, Mastercard…
—PHYLLIS DILLER
You can't fool me. There ain't no sanity clause.
—CHICO MARX, A NIGHT AT THE OPERA
I can't help it. There's something about a man in a
Santa Claus suit that just drives me absolutely crazy!
I don't know. Maybe it's—it's the warmth of all that
RED HOT SWEATY flannel, set against the austere
coldness of those BLACK PATENT LEATHER
boots…OR maybe it's because those rosy cheeks and
twinkling eyes bespeak a passion that is about to erupt
from a man who just spent a COLD LONELY year
cooped up with a pack of dwarfs! I'm not sure. All I
know is the sight of a Santa sets my body aflame with
unbridled desire!
— BLANCHE, THE GOLDEN GIRLS
Mae West once designed a special Christmas
card featuring a nude shot of herself with the
following caption: “Come up and see me sometime.
Merry Christmas, Mae West.”
Her publicist, objecting to the card's nudity,
substituted a design of his own featuring a shot
of an exhausted Santa Claus. The caption?
“Santa comes but once a year—too bad!”
Santa is a genuinely sinister figure. Think about it: a
single, old man watches everything little children do,
because he wants to know which are the naughty
ones? People have been hounded out of town
by mobs for far less.
—JULIAN BAGGINI
There are anthropologists who claim that Santa's
irrepressible hilarity and ability to fly are the result of
midwinter revelers ingesting large quantities of magic
mushrooms. Ho, ho, ho! Indeed!
—WILL SELF
Department Store Santa's Pet Peeves
Kids who refuse to believe that it's fruitcake on your breath and not gin.
When the last guy to use the beard leaves bits of his lunch in it.
Even with the costume, people keep recognizing you from Crime Watch.
Parents who get all uptight when you offer their kids a swig from your hip flask.
Enduring the taunts of your old buddies from drama school.
Those dorks in the Power Rangers costumes get all the babes.
Kids who don't understand that Santa's been a little jittery since he got back from ’Nam.
Two words: lap rash.
Top Reindeer Games
Strip poker with Mrs. Claus
Attach the Mistletoe to Santa's Ass
Spin the Salt Lick
Crapping down the chimneys of nonbelievers
Moose or Dare
Bait-and-Shoot Elmo
Turn-Frosty-Yellow-from-50-Paces
Scare the Holy Crap Out of the Airline Pilot
Convince the Elves to Eat Raisinets
Pin the Tail on Santa's Big Fat Animal-Abusing Ass
Hide the Venison Sausage with Vixen
Elf Tossing
Sniff the Tail on the Donkey
The “Rudolph the Shitfaced Reindeer” Drinking Game
A little boy had just received a brand-new bike for Christmas and was riding it down the street. He stopped at a red light next to a police officer on a horse.
The officer asked the boy, “Did Santa bring you that new bike?” And the boy replied, “Yes!”
“Well, it looks like Santa forgot to put reflectors on the back of your bike,” said the police officer. “The next time I see you, there better be reflectors on your bike!”
The little boy replied, “Yes, sir,” and then he asked, “Officer, can I ask you a question?”
“Yes,” replied the officer.
“Did Santa bring you that horse?” asked the boy.
“Yes he did…why?” said the officer.
The boy replied, “Cos if I ever get a horse, I'm going to ask Santa to put the dick under the horse instead of on top!”
Top 10 Reasons to Like Hanukkah
1. No roof damage from Santa and his reindeer.
2. Never a silent night when you're among your Jewish loved ones.
3. If someone screws up on their gift, there are seven more days to correct it.
4. You can use your fireplace.
5. Naked Spin-the-Dreidel.
6. Fun waxy buildup on the menorah.
7. No awkward explanations of virgin birth.
8. Cheer? Optional.
9. No Irving Berlin songs.
10. Betting Hanukkah gelt on candle races.
Q: Why was Santa's little helper depressed?
A: Because he had low elf-esteem.
On a busy day twenty-two thousand people come to
visit Santa, and I was told that it is an elf ’s lot to remain
merry in the face of torment and adversity. I promised
to keep that in mind.
—DAVID SEDARIS
Ja Rule once explained why he preferred artificial Christmas trees. “I had a real tree once,” he recalled. “You got to water them, keep the base filled up all the time. Can't let it get dry.” Why not? “Say you're smoking next to it—it might ignite.”
Smoking next to the tree? “Some people like gold on their tree, some people like silver,” he explained. “I like some special greenery on mine. Truthfully, weed's the perfect ornament. You can have such a good time on Christmas, you know? Have a smoke or two while you open your gifts.”7
7 Ah, the true spirit of Christmas.
Why a Christmas Tree Is Better Than a Man
1. A Christmas tree is always erect.
2. Even small ones give satisfaction.
3. A Christmas tree stays up for twelve days and nights.
4. A Christmas tree always looks good—even with the lights on.
5. A Christmas tree is always happy with its size.
6. A Christmas tree doesn't get mad if you break one of its balls.
7. You can throw a Christmas tree out when it's past its sell-by date.
8. You don't have to put up with a Christmas tree all year.
Let's be naughty and save Santa the trip.
—GARY ALLAN
Tinsel is really snakes’ mirrors.
—STEPHEN WRIGHT
Why a Christmas Tree Is Better Than a Woman
1. A Christmas tree doesn't care how many other Christmas trees you have had in the past.
2. Christmas trees don't get mad if you use exotic electrical devices.
3. A Christmas tree doesn't care if you have an artificial one in the closet.
4. A Christmas tree doesn't get mad if you break one of its balls.
5. You can feel a Christmas tree before you take it home.
6. A Christmas tree doesn't get mad if you look up underneath it.
7. A Christmas tree doesn't get jealous around other Christmas trees.
8. A Christmas tree doesn't care if you watch football all day.
Q: How are a Christmas tree and a priest alike?
A: They both have ornamental balls.
Santa was getting ready for his annual trip…but there were problems everywhere.
When he went to harness the reindeer, he foun
d that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and escaped. More stress.
When he began to load the sleigh, one of the boards cracked, and the toy bag fell to the ground and the toys scattered. 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 its straw end.
Just then, the doorbell rang, and irritable Santa trudged to the door to open it, and there was a little angel with a great 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 put it?”
Thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.
A Snarky Night
Before Christmas
I’VE ALWAYS HAD a problem with this Clement C. Moore tale.8 Maybe it was the fact that it's been parodied ad nauseam, with everything from a Hemingway version to Aliens. Or maybe it's that the whole poem is just one big lie.
I've taken the liberty of snarking it and placing my interpretation within the pages of an 1848 version of the book. Welcome to the twenty-first century!
8 If he even actually wrote it. No one really knows.
OK. The night before is nothing BUT stirring. Last-minute wrapping, killing yourself to put that “thing” together, cooking, cleaning, “getting ready”…all in the name of celebration. “Stockings hung with care”? They're just a receptacle for extra loot. Tack ’em up and be done with it. “St. Nick” will come, regardless.
“Sugar-plum fairies?” That's probably the six-pack of Coke and the extra-large box of Now and Laters talking. And nestled? If you can get a kid to sleep on Christmas Eve, you should rent yourself out for parties.
The noise of such a clatter woke you up…but not the kids? You did use drugs, didn't you?
And as for eight reindeer, please tell me Santa had a pooper-scooper on him. What, why not? Do the little house elves have to do his dirty work? Where is Heriome Granger when you need her? Is he above the law? I don't think so.
Um, could it have been anybody but St. Nick? I mean, has there been a rash of thieves in the neighborhood that land on the lawn in the bright moonlight with eight tiny reindeer? Of course it's St. Nick, you moron.
Now he's screaming out reindeer names? Really? Hasn't he ever heard of the clicker method for training animals? Jeez. Nick, Nick, not so loud. The neighbors are still pissed from the Halloween blowout. Keep it down, will ya?
This Moore guy uses some flowery text, no? “As dry leaves fly”? Somebody's been taking Poetry 101, now, haven't they? And maybe I'd be OK with the whole thing if it were only toys being delivered. But we all know there are a ton of polyester socks, remainder books, and inedible fruitcake on that miniature thing.
Did he say he “twinkling” or “tinkling” on the roof? I just had the damn thing re-shingled. Between Nick relieving himself and the reindeers doing their reindeer thing, it's gonna need a lot more work. It just never stops, does it? Again, I have to wonder how the kids are still asleep.
Aw, man, the chimney too? Couldn't he just jimmy the lock on the front door?
Fur, Santa…fur? I guess he didn't realize that global warming has really taken the chill out of winter around here.
And of course, he's tarnished and covered with soot.
Eyes a-twinkle and merry dimples too? Either he's a cabbage-patch kid, or he's been adding a little sumthin’ sumthin’ into the milk and cookies we left for him…it sounds like Santa might have a tiny little drug problem too.
Hey, there's no smoking in here! What, you couldn't light up outside? No, you had to drag it in here so that the whole house STINKS of pipe smoke. Sure, go ahead, laugh, but you're getting a letter from my lawyer.
Wait a minute…that doesn't smell like tobacco? Santa!
“Chubby and plump”? He's fat. All year he eats and smokes and drinks. Works one night of the year—eating cookies and milk the entire time, I might add. Nice.
I'm really digging the nose/chimney thing. Great trick. Way better than the I Dream of Jeannie method, with the crossed arms and all. Although I gotta say, she kind of did more with less, if you know what I mean.
Enough already.
First yelling and now whistling…you don't stop, do ya, Nick? You think you're at home with no rules? Well, you're not.
So, good riddance and get off my roof and out of my yard.
And yeah, yeah, yeah…Happy Christmas to you too. Libations
Libations
(ALCOHOL)
SPEAKING DIRECTLY TO A MODE OF SURVIVAL—
EXCUSING POOR BEHAVIOR WITH THE BOTTLE—RULES
FOR LIQUOR—HOW DIFFERENT RELIGIONS DEFINE
DRINKING—INTRODUCING SEVERAL METHODS OF
IMBIBING—WITHOUT REGARD FOR RESULTS—THE
MEANS TO AN END
EAT, DRINK, AND BE MERRY. Yep, nothing takes the edge off the holidays (or puts and keeps it on) like the copious intake of libations, booze, hootch, hair of the dog.
So drink up. And snark away. You can always blame it on the bottle.
I have something which makes it all bearable, the
presents, the in-laws, other people's children, your own
children, the games, the noise, the mess, the ridiculous
meals. It consists of one part French cooking brandy,
one part Irish whiskey and four parts fresh milk. The
hard part is remembering to put milk instead of water
into your ice cube trays the night before. Drink the
mixture immediately on rising, while others are having
breakfast or throwing up behind the snowman.
—KINGSLEY AMIS
Rules for Holiday Drinking
Stay busy, get plenty of exercise, and don't drink too
much. Then again, don’t drink too little.
—HERMAN “JACKRABBIT” SMITH-JOHANNSEN
Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That
will teach you to keep your mouth shut.
—ERNEST HEMINGWAY
The proper behavior all through the holiday season is
Year's Eve, when you get so drunk you kiss the person
you're married to. Christmas at my house is always at
least six or seven times more pleasant than anywhere
else. We start drinking early. And while everyone else
is seeing only one Santa Claus, we’ll be seeing
six or seven.
—P.J.O'ROURKE
Drink will take the place of parlor games and we shall
all pull crackers and probably enjoy ourselves enough to
warrant at least some of the god-damned fuss.
—NOËL COWARD
In the old days, it was not called the Holiday Season;
the Christians called it “Christmas” and went to
church; the Jews called it “Hanukkah” and went to
synagogue; the atheists went to parties and drank.
People passing each other on the street would say
“Merry Christmas!” or “Happy Hanukkah!” or (to the
atheists) “Look out for the wall!”
—DAVE BARRY
I’m not a drinker; my body won’t tolerate spirits, really.
I had two martinis New Year’s Eve and I tried to hijack
an elevator and fly it to Cuba.
—WOODY ALLEN
Thanksgiving is the day when you turn to another
family member and say, ’How long has Mom been
drinking like this? ’ My mom, after six Bloody Marys
looks at the turkey and goes, “Here, kitty, kitty.”
&nb
sp; —DAVID LETTERMAN
The first thing in the human personality that dissolves
in alcohol is dignity.
—ANONYMOUS
O God, that men should put an enemy in their
mouths to steal away their brains! that we should,
with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform
ourselves into beasts!
—WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
My grandmother is over
eighty and still doesn't need
glasses. Drinks right out of
the bottle.
—HENNY YOUNGMAN
I like to keep a bottle of stimulant handy in case I see a
snake, which I also keep handy.
—W.C. FIELDS
The chief reason for drinking is the desire to behave in
a certain way, and to be able to blame it on alcohol.
—MIGNON MCLAUGHLIN
I'll stick with gin. Champagne is just ginger ale that
knows somebody.
—HAWKEYE IN M*A*S*H
I drink only to make my family seem interesting.
—DON MARQUIS (WITH ARTISTIC LICENSE)
The harsh, useful things of the world, from pulling
teeth to digging potatoes, are best done by men who are
as starkly sober as so many convicts in the death-house,
but the lovely and useless things, the charming and
exhilarating things, are best done by men with, as the