Knock, knock?

Whos there?

Megan and chicken

Megan and chicken who?

He’s megan a list and chicken it twice, he’s gonna find out whos naughty and nice…

The Naughty Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat. The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat. The doors were all bolted, the phone off the hook, It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook. Momma in her teddy and I in the nude, Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube.

When out on the lawn there arose such a cry, That I lost my boner, and momma went dry. Up to the window I sprang like an elf, Tore back the shade while she played with herself. The moon on the crest of the snowman we’d built, Shoved a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer. With a fat little driver, half out of the sled, A sock in his ear and a bra on his head. Sure as I’m speaking, he was high as a kite, And he yelled to his team, but it didn’t sound right.

Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz, Either slow down this rig or I’ll cut off your nuts. Look out for the lamp post, and don’t hit the tree, Quit shaking the sleigh, ’cause I gotta go pee. They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub, Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard such a spatter, As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder. I was donning my jockies, to cover my ass, When down the chimney Santa came with a crash. His suit was all smelly with perfume galore, He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore.

“That was some brothel,” he said with a smile, “The reindeer are pooped, and I’ll just stay awhile” He walked to the kitchen for himself poured a drink, Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink. I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee, The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack, But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed. The first thing he found was a pair of false tits, The first thing he found was a pair of false tits, The next was a handgun with a penis that spits. A box filled with condoms was Santa’s next find, And six pair of panties, the edible kind. A bra without nipples, a penis extension, And several more things I shouldn’t even mention. A fuck ring, a G-string, and all types of oil, And a dildo so long that it lay in a coil.

“This stuff ain’t for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit, So I’ll leave ‘em here. and then I’ll just split.” He filled every stocking and then took his leave, With one tiny butt plug stuck under his sleeve. He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead, Thus he fell on his ass and farted instead. In time he was seated, took reigns of his hitch, Saying, “Take me home, Rudolph. This night’s been a bitch!”

The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout, “The best thing about pussy is you can’t wear it out!!”

December 26, 1999

Dear Santa,

You must be surprised that I’m writing to you today, the 26th of December. Well I would very much like to clear up certain things that have occurred since the beginning of the month, when, filled with illusion, I wrote you my letter.

I asked for a bicycle, an electric train set, a pair of roller blades, and a football uniform. I destroyed my brain studying the whole year. Not only was I the first in my class, but I had the best grades in the whole school.

I’m not going to lie to you, there was no one in my entire neighborhood that behaved better than me, with my parents, my brothers, my friends, and with my neighbors. I would go on errands, and even help the elderly cross the street. There was virtually nothing within reach that I would not do for humanity.

What balls do you have leaving me a fucking yo-yo, a stupid whistle, and a pair of socks? What the fuck were you thinking you fat son of a bitch?!

That you have taken me for a sucker the whole fucking year to come out with some shit like this under the tree. As if you hadn’t fucked me enough, you gave that little faggot across the street so many toys that he can’t even walk into his house.

Don’t let me see you trying to fit your big ass down my chimney next year. I’ll fuck you up. I’ll throw rocks at those stupid reindeer and scare them away so you’ll have to walk back to the fucking North Pole, just like what I have to do now since you didn’t get me that fucking bike.

FUCK YOU SANTA. Next year you’ll find out how bad I can be, you FAT-SON-OF-A-BITCH!

Sincerely,

Little Johnny

Psychological Christmas Songs

SCHIZOPHRENIA – Do You Hear What I Hear?

MULTIPLE PERSONALITY – We Three Kings Disoriented Are.

DEMENTIA – I Think I’ll Be Home For Christmas.

NARCISSISTIC – Hark The Herald Angels Sing (About Me)

MANIA – Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town …or Deck the Halls and Spare No Expense!

PARANOIA – Santa Claus is Coming To Get Me.

PERSONALITY DISORDER – You Better Watch Out, I’m Gonna Cry,

I’m Gonna Pout, then MAYBE I’ll tell you why.

OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE – Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock,Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell….

BORDERLINE PERSONALITY – Thoughts of Roasting in an Open Fire.

PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE – On the First Day of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me…

(and then took it all away).

What do elves learn in school?

The ELF-abet.

How many reindeer does Santa have?

11 (named below):

Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen,

Rudolph (the one with the red nose),

Olive (all of the other reigndeer)

and Al (Then Al the reigndeer loved him all).

What nationality is Santa Claus?

North Polish

What kind of bird can write?

A PEN-guin

Why does Santa’s sled get such good mileage?

Because it has long distance-runners on each side.

Why does Scrooge love Rudolph-the red-nosed reindeer?

Beacuse every buck is dear to him.

What do you get if you deep-fry Santa Claus?

Crisp Cringle

What did the ghosts say to Santa Claus?

We’ll have a “boo” Christmas without you.

ELF#1: What did Santa shout to his toys on Christmas Eve?

ELF#2: “OKay everyone, sack time!”

If athletes get athlete’s foot, what do astronauts get?

Missletoe!!!!!

Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat.

The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat.

The doors were all bolted, the phone off the hook,

It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.

Momma in her teddy and I in the nude,

Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube.

When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,

That I lost my boner, and momma went dry.

Up to the window I sprang like an elf,

Tore back the shade while she played with herself.

The moon on the crest of the snowman we’d built,

Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangey reindeer.

With a fat little driver, half out of the sled,

A sock in his ear and a bra on his head.

Sure as I’m speaking, he was high as a kite,

And he yelled to his team, but it didn’t sound right.

Woa Shithead, woa Asshole, woa Stupid, woa Putz,

Either slow down this rig or I’ll cut off your nuts.

Look out for the lamp post, and don’t hit the tree,

Quit shaking the sleigh, ’cause I gotta go pee.

They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,

Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard such a clatter,

As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.

I was donning my jockies, to cover my ass,

When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.

His suit was all smelly with perfume galore,

He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore.

“That was some brothel,” he said with a smile,

“The reindeer are pooped, and I’ll just stay awhile”

He walked to the kitchen for himself poured a drink,

Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.

I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee,

The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,

But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.

The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,

The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.

A box filled with condoms was Santa’s next find,

And six pair of panties, the edible kind.

A bra without nipples, a penis extension,

And several more things I shouldn’t even mention.

A fuck ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,

And a dildo so long that it lay in a coil.

“This stuff ain’t for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit,

So I’ll leave ‘em here, and then I’ll just split.”

He filled every stocking and then took his leave,

With one tiny butt plug stuck under his sleeve.

He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,

Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.

In time he was seated, took reigns of his hitch,

Saying, “Take me home, Rudolf. This night’s been a bitch!”

The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,

“The best thing about pussy is you can’t wear it out!!”

Twas the night before Christmas and throughout the White House,

Al Gore was eyeing Hillary, peering into her blouse.

The Secret Service were guarding the premises with care,

for a whole host of Democrats were vacationing there.

As Chelsea was nestled all snug in her bed,

dirty thoughts swam around Mr. Kennedy’s head.

And Bill in his sportcoat; a heavy gray tweed,

had just fried his brain with some Mexican weed.

When out in the garden came a plethora of noise,

all drunken and rowdy: ’twas Newt and the boys!

Bill jumped to the window, and tore open the sash,

“It’s a raid boys!” he cried, “Quick, go hide my stash!”

The pot in his blood and the moon on the snow,

gave a psychedelic haze to the objects below.

When what to Bill’s frantic eyes should appear, but a slew

of Republicans and a keg of ice beer.

With a big House leader, all lively and fat:

He knew it was Newt, the proponent of GATT!

As viscous as vipers, the Republicans came,

and Bill recognized them and called them by name.

“Hey Helms, Hey Thurmond! Hey Packwood and Hatch!

Hey Dole and Pataki, it’s time for a bash!”

A collective cheer rose out from the crowd,

“Let’s listen to Nugent, and turn it up loud!”

Together Dems and Republicans danced and sang out in cheer

“Screw health care and Haiti, it’s time to drink beer!”

When from the chimney, came a big black cloud of soot,

as Limbaugh danced from the fireplace in a red Santa suit.

He moved through the crowd, then held up his hand,

and when all was silent, he did a keg stand.

And the crowd raised their cups, as Newt bowed down in prayer,

and champagne flowed freely, just like welfare.

As Kennedy and Reno romped in the Green Room,

the rest of the crooks outlined their plan of doom.

“We’ll pray in the schools, shove it down their throats!”

“More welfare, more taxes, we’ll still get the votes!”

And they drank, hugged and danced, they crossed party lines.

They cheered, “It doesn’t matter, we’re all bastard swines!”

So they threw out allegiance and partisan crap,

and they took turns sitting on the President’s lap.

And Gephardt and Dole passed out on the lawn,

and awoke in the morning without their pants on.

And Packwood gave Tipper a pat on the rear.

While Judge Thomas and Miss Hill went out for more beer.

Then the party-ers discovered a sight so touching and cute,

President Clinton fast asleep, snuggled up next to Newt.

Santa Limbaugh smiled and threw up on his boots,

“A merry Clinton to all, and to all a good Newt!”

Q. What does a black boy get for Christmas? A. Your Bike.

A few years ago, we invited some friends over for a Christmas party. Many of my colleagues were there, and many of them are German. Helmut, Franz, and Rudolf were there.

I was talking to Rudolf about his belief in the superiority of the communist party. I grew tired of the discussion so I motioned towards the window and commented on the weather, “I believe it’s snowing”. “No, it looks too wet to be snow,” he said. The argument went back and forth for a few minutes: rain, snow, rain, snow…

Then my wife came over and settled the argument for us. She said: “Rudolf the Red knows rain, dear!”

Q: Why is Christmas just like a day at the office?

A: You do all the work and the fat guy with the suit gets all the credit.