Humor Christmas

Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer

A Russian couple was walking down the street in St. Petersburg the other night, when the man felt a drop hit his nose. "I think it's raining," he said to his wife.
"No, that felt more like snow to me," she replied. "No, I'm sure it was just rain, he said." Well, as these things go, they were about to have a major argument about whether it was raining or snowing. Just then they saw a minor communist party official walking toward them. "Let's not fight about it," the man said, "let's ask Comrade Rudolph whether it's officially raining or snowing."
As the official approached, the man said, "Tell us, Comrade Rudolph, is it officially raining or snowing?" 
"It's raining, of course," he answered and walked on. But the woman insisted: "I know that felt like snow!" To which the man quietly replied: "Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear!" 

Lost X Files Christmas episode

Mulder: We're too late. It's already been here.
Scully: Mulder, I hope you know what you are doing.
Mulder: Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas fir, truncated, mounted, transformed into some sort of shrine; halls decked with boughs of holly; stockings hung by the chimney, with care.
Scully: You really think someone's been here? 
Mulder: Someone or some thing.
Scully: Mulder, over here--it's fruitcake. 
Mulder: Don't touch it! Those things can be lethal. 
Scully: It's O.K. There's a note attached: "Gonna find out who's naughty and nice."
Mulder: It's judging them, Scully. It's making a list. 
Scully: Who? What are you talking about? 
Mulder: Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity who could travel at great speed in a craft powered by antlered servants. Once each year, near the winter solstice, this creature is said to descend from the heavens to reward its followers and punish its disbelievers with jagged chunks of anthracite.
Scully: But that's legend, Mulder--a story told by parents to frighten children. Surely, you don't believe it? 
Mulder: Something was here tonight, Scully. Check out the bite marks on this gingerbread man. Whatever tore through this plate of cookies was massive -- and in a hurry. 
Scully: It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder, this milk glass has been completely drained. 
Mulder: It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without remorse. 
Scully: But why would they leave it milk and cookies? 
Mulder: Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can stop its wilding. 
Scully: But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The doors and windows were locked. There's no sign of forced entry. 
Mulder: Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace. 
Scully: Wait a minute, Mulder. If you are saying some huge creature landed on the roof and came down the chimney, you're crazy. The flue is barely six inches wide. Nothing could get through there. 
Mulder: But what if it could alter its shape, move in all directions. 
Scully: You mean, like a bowl full of jelly? 
Mulder: Exactly. Scully, I've never told anyone this, but when I was a child my home was visited. I saw the creature. It had long white strips of fur surrounding its ruddy, misshapen head. Its bloated torso was red and white. I'll never forget the horror. I turned away, and when I looked back it had somehow taken on the facial features of my father. 
Scully: Impossible. 
Mulder: I know what I saw. And that night it read my mind. It brought me a Mr. Potato Head, Scully. IT KNEW I WANTED A MR. POTATO HEAD. Scully: I'm sorry, Mulder, but you're asking me to disregard the laws of physics. You want me to believe in some supernatural being who soars across the skies and brings gifts to good little girls and boys. Listen to what you are saying. Do you understand the repercussions? If this gets out, they'll close the X-files. 
Mulder: Scully, listen to me: It knows when you are sleeping. It knows when you're awake. 
Scully: But we have no proof. 
Mulder: Last year, on this exact date, S.E.T.I. radio telescopes detected bogeys in the airspace over twenty-seven states. The White House ordered a Condition Red. 
Scully: But that was a meteor shower. 
Mulder: Officially. Two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian reindeer vanished from the National Zoo in Washington, D.C. Nobody - not even the zookeeper - was told about it. The government doesn't want people to know about Project Kringle. They fear that if this thing is proved to exist, then the public would stop spending half its annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy. Retail markets will collapse. Scully, they cannot let the world believe this creature lives. There's too much at stake. They'll do whatever it takes to insure another silent night. 
Scully: Mulder, I -- Scully: On the roof. It sounds like . . . a clatter. 
Mulder: The truth is up there. Let's see what's the matter... 

Did Santa Give You That Present?

On Christmas morning a cop on horseback is sitting at a traffic light, and next to him is a kid on his shiny new bike.
The cop says to the kid, "Nice bike you got there. Did Santa bring that to you?"
The kid says, "Yeah."
The cop says, "Well, next year tell Santa to put a tail-light on that bike."
The cop then proceeds to issue the kid a $20.00 bicycle safety violation ticket.
The kid takes the ticket and before he rides off says, "By the way, that's a nice horse you got there. Did Santa bring that to you?"
Humoring the kid, the cop says, "Yeah, he sure did."
The kid says, "Well, next year tell Santa to put the stupidity in the horse's brain instead of on his back."

A parent's night before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house, I searched for the tools to hand to my spouse. Instructions were studied and we were inspired, In hopes we could manage "Some Assembly Required." The children were quiet (not asleep) in their beds, While Dad and I faced the evening with dread: A kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's town house to boot! And, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!
We opened the boxes, my heart skipped a beat.... Let no parts be missing or parts incomplete!
Too late for last-minute returns or replacement; If we can't get it right, it goes in the basement!
When what to my worrying eyes should appear, But 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,
With each part numbered and every slot named, So if we failed, only we could be blamed.
More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out, All over the carpet they were scattered about.
"Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there! Slide on the seats, and staple the stair!
Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand." "Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand."
And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact That all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact
To keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night With "assembly required" till morning's first light.
We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work, Till our eyes, they went bleary; our fingers all hurt.
The coffee went cold and the night, it wore thin Before we attached the last rod and last pin.
Then laying the tools away in the chest, We fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.
But I said to my husband just before I passed out, "This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.
Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring, And not have to run to the store for a thing!
We did it! We did it! The toys are all set, For the perfect, most perfect, Christmas, I bet!"
Then off to dreamland and sweet repose I gratefully went, Though I suppose there's something to say for those self-deluded... I'd forgotten that batteries are never included! 

A Microsoft Christmas

NORTH POLE (API) - MICROSOFT announced an agreement with Santa Claus Industries to acquire Christmas at a press conference held via satellite from Santa's summer estate somewhere in the southern hemisphere. In the deal, Microsoft would gain exclusive rights to Christmas, Reindeer, and other unspecified inventions. In addition, Microsoft will gain access to millions of households through the Santa Sleigh.
The announcement also included a notice that beginning Dec 9, 1998, Christmas and the Reindeer names would be copyrighted by Microsoft. This unprecedented move was facilitated by the recently acquired MS Court. Microsoft stated its commitment to "all who have made Christmas great," and vowed to "make licensing of the Christmas and Reindeer names available to all." It is believed that the guidelines for licensing these names, due before Halloween, will be very strict.
When asked "Why buy Christmas?" Bill Gates replied "Microsoft has been working on a more efficient delivery mechanism for all of our products for some time, but recognized that the Santa Sleigh has some immediate benefits. We'll use it first for the next release of Windows and Office 98."
In a multimedia extravaganza, the attendees were shown a seemingly endless video stream of products that make up the deal. It ended with a green and red version of the Microsoft logo, and a new Christmas 98 trademark, leading into the announcement of the first product from the deal.
Vixen, the new Director of Holidays and Celebrations said, "The first step is to assimilate Christmas within the Microsoft Organization. This will take some time, so don't expect any changes this year." She continued, "our big plans are for next year, when we release Christmas 99. It will be bigger and better than last year." She further elaborated that "Windows 95 users who sign up with MS Network will get sneak previews of Christmas[99] as early as November first." 
Christmas 98 is scheduled for release in December of 1998, though one unnamed source said that it is dangerously close to the end of the year and may slip into the first half of 1999. An economist at Goldman Sachs explained that a slip would be catastrophic to next year's economy and the nation's tax revenue, possibly requiring the IRS to move the deadline for filing income tax returns to three months after Christmas, whenever that was. "But it could be good in the long term," he explained. "With Microsoft controlling Christmas, we may see it move to May or June, which are much slower months for retailers. This may serve to even out the economy over the year." 
When asked if other holidays are being considered, Mr. Gates explained that "Christmas is the flagship of holidays, so we wanted to start there. Not all holidays are available for sale, and the remaining will have to show a good long-term business," suggesting that holidays with a short history may not be in the plans. 
Though specific terms of the agreement were withheld, a Santa official confirmed that the deal was "sizeable, even for a man of Santa's stature." 
Some analysts think that Santa has saturated the Holiday market, and is looking for a means to expand his business to year 'round products and services. Others contend that the Jolly Red Man is looking to retire in Redmond. 
A spokesperson for the most famous Reindeer could not be reached for comment. 

A Martha Stewart Christmas

Dear Santa:
I rarely ask for much. This year is no exception. I don't need diamond earrings, handy slicer-dicers or comfy slippers. I only want one little thing, and I want it deeply.
I want to slap Martha Stewart.
Now, hear me out, Santa. I won't scar her or draw blood or anything. Just one good smack, right across her smug little cheek. I get all cozy inside just thinking about it. Don't grant this wish just for me, do it for thousands of women across the country. Through sheer vicarious satisfaction, you'll be giving a gift to us all. Those of us leading average, garden variety lives aren't concerned with gracious living.
We feel pretty good about ourselves if our paper plates match when we stack them on the counter, buffet-style for dinner. We're tired of Martha showing us how to make centerpieces from hollyhock dipped in 18-carat gold. We're plumb out of liquid gold. Unless it's of the furniture polish variety. We can't whip up Martha's creamy holiday sauce, spiced with turmeric. Most of us can't even say turmeric, let alone figure out what to do with it.
OK, Santa, maybe you think I'm being a little harsh. But I'll bet with all the holiday rush you didn't catch that interview with Martha in last week's USA Weekend. I'm surprised there was enough room on the page for her ego.
We discovered that not only does Martha avoid take-out pizza (she's only ordered it once), she refuses to eat it cold (No cold pizza? Is Martha Stewart living?) When it was pointed out that she could microwave it, she replied, "I don't have a microwave."
The reporter, Jeffrey Zaslow, noted that she said this "in a tone that suggests you shouldn't either."
Well, lah-dee-dah. Imagine that, Santa!
That lovely microwave you brought me years ago, in which I've learned to make complicated dishes like popcorn and hot chocolate, has been declared undesirable by Queen Martha. What next? The coffee maker?
In the article, we learned that Martha has 40 sets of dishes adorning an entire wall in her home. Forty sets. Can you spell "overkill"? And neatly put away, no less. If my dishes make it to the dishwasher that qualifies as "put away" in my house!
Martha tells us she's already making homemade holiday gifts for friends. "Last year, I made amazing silk-lined scarves for everyone," she boasts. Not just scarves mind you. Amazing scarves. Martha's obviously not shy about giving herself a little pat on the back. In fact, she does so with such frequency that one has to wonder if her back is black and blue.
She goes on to tell us that "homemaking is glamour for the 90s," and says her most glamorous friends are "interested in stain removal, how to iron a monogram, and how to fold a towel." I have one piece of advice, Martha: "Get new friends."
Glamorous friends fly to Paris on a whim. They drift past the Greek Islands on yachts, sipping champagne from crystal goblets. They step out for the evening in shimmering satin gowns, whisked away by tuxedoed chauffeurs. They do not spend their days pondering the finer art of toilet bowl sanitation. Zaslow notes that Martha was named one of America's 25 most influential people by Time magazine (nosing out Mother Theresa, Madeline All bright and Maya Angelou, no doubt).
The proof of Martha's influence: after she bought white-fleshed peaches in the supermarket, Martha says, "People saw me buy them. In an instant, they were all gone." I hope Martha never decides to jump off a bridge.
A guest in Martha's home told Zaslow how Martha gets up early to roller blade with her dogs to pick fresh wild blackberries for breakfast.
This confirms what I've suspected about Martha all along: She's obviously got too much time on her hands. Teaching the dogs to roller blade. What a show off.
If you think the dogs are spoiled, listen to how Martha treats her friends: She gave one friend all 272 books from the Knopf Everyman Library. It didn't cost much. Pocket change, really. Just $5,000. But what price friendship, right?
When asked if others should envy her, Martha replies, "Don't envy me. I'm doing this because I'm a natural teacher. You shouldn't envy teachers. You should listen to them." Zaslow must have slit a seam in Martha's ego at this point, because once the hot air came hissing out, it couldn't be held back. "Being an overachiever is nothing despicable. It is only admirable. Never lower your standards," says Martha.
And of her Web Page on the Internet, Martha declares herself an "important presence" as she graciously helps people organize their sad, tacky little lives. There you have it, Santa. If there was ever someone who deserved a good smack, it's Martha Stewart. But I bet I won't get my gift this year.
You probably want to smack her yourself.

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