Archive for the ‘Education’ Category
I’ve been racking my brain for the last few days trying to come up with some ideas for my least favorite holiday that’s approaching. Everyone on the planet knows it’s a made-up holiday supported primarily by greeting card companies but it doesn’t change the fact that we men are required to do the proper thing regardless for Valentine’s Day. The proper thing being candy, flowers, and an emotional and over the top “love” card. If you really want to get lucky it also may require an expensive dinner and a crazy night on the town. It’s kind of like Christmas. You get one big gift that’s meant to last the whole year.
I really don’t mean to sound like a man but unfortunately that’s what I am. I decided to do a little net surfing in an attempt to identify those things that men want from women in a relationship and vice versa. It seems that everyone is an expert on this subject and in order for me to be thorough I would’ve been forced to read through hundreds of websites. My laziness resulted in these two lists with 10 items each listing the primary “wants” from both genders. This first list is what men are looking for in the women they date in the hopes of finding their soulmate.
What Men Want in Women
Physical Intimacy
Confident
Attractiveness
Love
Security
Trust
Sense of Humor
Supportive
As you can see there are no surprises in that list. This next list is things wanted by women in their men to qualify them for “soulmate” status.
What Women Want in Men
Love
Sense of Humor
Confident
Respectful
Sexual Passion
Trustworthy
Chivalrous
Attractive
Ambitious
Imaginative
Again no real surprises at all. Some minor differences but nothing too shocking. Let me make a statement that in my humble opinion will sum up the main wants and needs of both sexes in one simple sentence.
“I want an attractive, confident, trustworthy, and sexy person.”
For me that says it all. Those characteristics were common to both lists and I suspect haven’t changed much since the first man met the first women. Thousands of years, millions of people, trillions of dollars, and I figured it all out in an hour. So if you have all of these qualities you should be in demand as a single person and a major catch for marriage seekers. If you think that that sentence describes you and you aren’t in demand it can only mean one thing. I got it all wrong. If I’m wrong then I’d advise you to get your ass in gear and buy some candy, some flowers, a mushy card, a fancy dinner, and then pray for the sex your hoping to get on Valentine’s Day night.
For a few extra thrills throw in some jewelry. Also I find it a little interesting that Valentine’s Day is represented by the initials VD. I don’t think it means anything, I’m just saying.
On many occasions I’ve posted about “Battle of the Sexes” issues much to the delight of both men and women. I’ve tried keeping things humorous but many members of both sexes seem to take it way more serious than I do. With that in mind, I thought I’d make these following facts available to both sexes to be used in whatever fashion they see fit.
I could spend a lot of time referencing my sources for this nonsense but I’m not going to do that either. While it is meant to be humorous the following facts and statements were actually retrieved from a published book. Believe them or not.
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44% of PhD’s in biology and the life sciences are awarded to women.
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Women spend nearly 3 years of their lives getting ready to leave the house. Men spend three months waiting for their wives and girlfriends while out shopping.
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74% of the women passengers aboard the Titanic survived, compared with 20% of the men.
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In March 2009 Monaco became the last country to appoint a female member of government.
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In Brazil, 62% of higher education students are women.
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French males cannot marry until they are 18, but females can marry at only 15.
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In the United States in 2005, one third of wives out earned their husbands.
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Half of the men in the United States say they feel nervous in the company of women.
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Women make up 70% of Algeria’s lawyers and 60% of its judges.
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Women drivers are three times more likely than men to suffer whiplash injuries in their cars hit from behind, because they generally sit closer to the steering wheel.
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A typical man is 50 to 70% water, a typical woman, 40 to 60%.
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On average women take three times as long to use the toilet is meant.
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Men and women differ genetically by 1 to 2%, as wide a gap as the one that separates women from female chimpanzees.
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Women earn 57% of the bachelors degrees and 59% of Masters degrees in the United States, and a majority of research PhD’s, but only 24% of PhD’s in the physical sciences.
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In Chicago and New York, among other American cities, full-time female employees in their 20s earn more on average than males.
I tried to be as fair as possible when listing these facts and while I’ll defend my gender with my life, fairness rules here on this blog. The “War Between the Sexes” for me has always been a tongue-in-cheek kind of thing and I intend to keep it that way.
Odd Thought: I have a question. Does it mean anything at all that January is Self-Love Month? My follow-up to that question is this: Does it mean anything that the last week of the month is set aside as Meat Week? And lastly does it mean anything at all that the last Saturday of the month is National Seed Swap Day? I was just wondering, that’s all.
I have a lot of questions like that and they never seem to get answered. What possesses people to do questionable and rude things? Is it sheer stupidity or is it a complete and total disregard of every other person on the planet? In order to find answers to that question I usually spend a little time cruising around Walmart. It’s amazing just how many rude and inconsiderate people can be found in that one building.
This has been a week of Walmart for me. I was almost run down and injured by a rather large woman with a cart full of merchandise that was so full it was overflowing and falling on the floor. She pushed me out of the way in order to get 4 feet ahead of me in line at the checkout register. Being the calm and polite person that I am I quietly asked, “Ma’am just what the hell do you think your doing?” She gave me a rather dirty look, turned her back to me and began throwing her merchandise onto the register counter. I was then forced to wait even longer when she had an issue over the use of an EBT card. That’s a food stamp card for those of you not in the know. She was pissed off that the cashier was questioning her purchases of alcohol. Go figure.
How many times have you sat and patiently waited for a parking spot to clear and then have some A-hole pull in from the other direction in front of you? It happens all too often for my liking but unless your willing to risk some sort of “road rage” incident your forced to swallow your pride and just “let it go”. How many times does it have to happen before you flip out completely and create a huge scene and argument? In my younger days I was one of the guys who wouldn’t put up with that crap and came close to fisticuffs a number of times. That was when I finally became aware that there are large numbers of people out there who are total and complete morons. And don’t get me started on the rudeness displayed with cell phone usage. That’s a whole other posting that will be addressed soon.
I’m not just picking on Walmart customers because these incidents occur with people driving those big expensive SUV’s as well who think that we peons are just inconveniences to be dealt with when we interfere with their activities. More inconsiderate well-to-do A-holes.
Years ago I spent a few bucks on adhesive paper that fit my inkjet printer and printed up a number of of small bulletin cards for addressing parking lot rudeness, driving rudeness, and other sorts of inconsiderate activities that pissed me off. If someone blocked me in or parked in an inconsiderate manner I’d slap one of my adhesive bulletins on their windshield directly blocking their view from the drivers seat. It took a little elbow grease and a lot of cursing for them to remove those bulletin from the windshield but it was oh so satisfying for me as I drove away.
I think it’s time to reinvent my bulletins. I’ll refresh the wording a little and make them even more polite than usual. It has much more of an effect on rude people when you politely tell them they’re rude and inconsiderate. I’ll start carrying a supply of them with me again and begin making their lives as miserable as they make mine. By doing it this way I avoid those dangerous confrontations while still getting my points across.
Once I start passing them out I’ll keep you posted on the results. This is the only safe way I can think of to make them aware of my unhappiness and just how stupid, inconsiderate, and ignorant they seem to be.
Revenge is sweet regardless of what all those the do-gooder’s tell you.
P.S. And yes I understand that they may think that I’m rude and inconsiderate by my actions. Consider for a minute the source of that criticism and then “let it go”.
“Energy and persistence conquer all things.”
I’m exhausted today. I was up half the night, not from insomnia, but from an e-book I’ve been reading. I downloaded the book from Amazon on a whim never thinking I’d be all that interested once I started reading it. Boy was I ever wrong.
I’ve always been an admirer of a number of this country’s forefathers but there were three that interested me more than the others. George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and of course Benjamin Franklin. Without those three individuals we’d probably still be under the thumb of the British Empire and never have turned into the superpower that we’ve become. That’s the primary reason that I downloaded the autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, written by his own hand, and in the language of the day. I wanted to get to know him a little better.
I have to admit I was expecting very little from the experience but after reading just a few pages I knew I was hooked. I’m now 400 pages into a 2000 page autobiography which started when Mr. Franklin was 5 and I don’t know where it ends because I haven’t finished it yet. It supplied me with a brief but detailed description and history of his immediate family and included a laundry list of his closest friends and acquaintances. It absolutely boggles the mind how things fell together for this man and the number of movers and shakers in the colonies at that time who he’d met and exchanged ideas with.
”Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.”
I can now understand why his influences were felt throughout the colonies, in England, and throughout Europe. His elegant way of writing is what brought him to the attention of many and now I can be included in that number. He writes in such an honest and simple fashion but conveys so much more than he actually says. It allows you to peek into his brain to understand why he did the many things he did and the decision-making process he developed. After reading just 400 pages I feel like one of his best friends and I’m sure that’s the same effect he had on the people of the time. He loved reading and writing and voicing his opinions and did so whenever possible to whoever would listen. Fortunately for all of us he knew what he was talking about and much of what he said and did was for the benefit of us all.
I’m at the point in the book now where Mr. Franklin is about 22 years old. I can’t put the damn book down and I can’t wait for him to age a few more decades so I can listen to his experiences as a politician and inventor and his extended assignments in Europe which later proved to be crucial to the war effort.
“At twenty years of age the will reigns; at thirty the wit; at forty the judgment.”
I just downloaded a second volume containing stories and memoirs of his life again written by his own hand. I can’t wait to read that as well. I’m looking forward to at least four more late nights in order to finish this first volume. I’m taking my time and trying not to miss any of the details or nuances he so artfully fills each paragraph with. I realize subject matter like this will bore some of you and that’s okay but I’ll still be mentioning it because for me it’s exciting. When I read I actually feel like I’m there as he’s writing his book. I feel like I’m standing behind him looking over his shoulder in the candle light as he struggles to put his thoughts in some kind of logical order. I can’t wait for tonight when I can go back to the colonies and sit with Ben Franklin and learn a few more things.
Another night of weird dreams. I said WEIRD not WET, so get your mind out of the gutter. Over the years I’ve slowly and steadily learned to love my dreams. Everyone loves to take a nap or to sleep soundly through the night but not me. If I don’t have a really good dream as well I’m truly disappointed. I’ve developed the ability over time to remember my dreams and what is even more amazing is returning to an old dream on multiple occasions I remember streets and directions in these dreams making it possible for me to visit them again and and again and actually know my way around. It sounds stupid but it’s really pretty cool.
As I sit here this morning I began to let my love of science fiction kick in. I’m looking for answers as to why dreams are the way they are. How can it be possible for a human mind to create places and people we’ve never known and then revisit them multiple times in dreams. I understand that seeing, meeting, and talking with people from our past in dreams is possible. We carry millions of subconscious memories in our brain that are available for it’s use. Can the brain actually create these weird stories filled with even weirder people without any help from our conscious self? If it can’t then it takes this discussion to a whole new level.
We’ve all seen the movies, The Matrix and Avatar, and enjoyed them. Let me throw this idea out there. Maybe our brain really isn’t creating these scenarios at all. Can it be possible that the life we live and perceive to be our reality is anything but. Could this reality be nothing more than a giant computer generated program populated with we humans who are nothing more than avatars being used by someone else in their own reality. Maybe the portions of our dreams we don’t understand are just fragments of memories from the host person or thing whose avatar we are. They’re living our lives through us and when they’ve finished playing their weird little game they exit from the program and go about their lives. During that down-time is when we in our reality get to sleep and dream. Our brain retains fragments of their lives and combines them with our own for really strange and sometimes scary dreams and nightmares.
It would explain a lot of things that I have questions about. In fact it would be very similar to those computer generated role playing games on the Internet in this reality. People have become so immersed in them at times that their real lives and relationships have been adversely effected. Those computer generated lives become so real to them that their real lives become secondary causing a serious shift in their reality. Is that what’s happening when we dream? Is that why I have dreams and relationships in my dreams with people and places I’ve never experienced in this reality? I really don’t have the answers but I really enjoy asking the questions and exploring the possibilities.
That’s how my mind spent a few minutes this morning while my better-half was droning on about her schedule for the day. I was deep into this train of thought and almost got myself in serious trouble when I was accused of not paying attention to her. Maybe when she reads this it will give her a better understanding of how weird my mind works at time and not to take it so personally.
I decided to brave the cold this morning just to get out of the house for a few minutes. Everything was fine until I made that one fatal mistake. I turned on a local Maine radio station and within two minutes my blood pressure was soaring. There was a young lady being interviewed who sounded like she might have been twenty-one years old. She was a “Journalist” and I use the term loosely. She was going to explain to all of us in the audience about the eight million senior citizens in this country who are “food challenged”. That supposedly means they don’t have the proper food with the proper vitamins and minerals to maintain a healthy life style. She was also concerned with seniors living in northern Maine in agricultural areas she termed “food deserts”.
Please someone just take a gun and shoot me, please!!! I understand now why at a certain point the very elderly get tired of living. To be in your eighties and to have been force fed political correct crap for 40 years can send you over the edge. What boggles my mind is that everyone you talk to hates political correctness. Many of those same people must be either disingenuous or big, fat liars. If everyone hates it so much why is it thriving in this country?
The following list of quotations are from both celebrities and intellectuals. I realize that the people who fawn over celebrities are more likely to be some of the “politically correct weasels” who say they hate it it but really don’t. Many of these quotes are for them.
“Don’t ever call me mad, Mycroft. I’m not mad. I’m just … well, differently moraled, that’s all.” ― Jasper Fforde, The Eyre Affair
“A lot of people are bored of all the political correctness.” – Clint Eastwood
“The greatest enemy of clear language is insincerity.” ― George Orwell
“I got a feeling about political correctness. I hate it. It causes us to lie silently instead of saying what we think.” – Hal Holbrook
“You’re not allowed to call them dinosaurs any more,” said Yo-less. “It’s speciesist. You have to call them pre-petroleum persons.” – ― Terry Pratchett, Johnny and the Bomb
“I believe that political correctness can be a form of linguistic fascism, and it sends shivers down the spine of my generation who went to war against fascism.” – P. D. James
“As societies grow decadent, the language grows decadent, too. Words are used to disguise, not to illuminate, action: you liberate a city by destroying it. Words are to confuse, so that at election time people will solemnly vote against their own interests.” ― Gore Vidal
“Whether it’s people walking off ‘The View’ when Bill O’Reilly makes a statement about radical Islam or Juan Williams being fired for expressing his opinion, over-reaching political correctness is chipping away at the fundamental American freedoms of speech and expression.” – Eric Cantor
“I know that even now, having watched enough television, you probably won’t even refer to them as lepers so as to spare their feelings. You probably call them ‘parts-dropping-off challenged’ or something.” ― Christopher Moore, Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff
“The problem is that it has become politically awkward to draw attention to absolutes of bad and good. In place of manners, we now have doctrines of political correctness, against which one offends at one’s peril: by means of a considerable circular logic, such offences mark you as reactionary and therefore a bad person. Therefore if you say people are bad, you are bad.”
― Lynne Truss, Talk to the Hand: The Utter Bloody Rudeness of the World Today, or Six Good Reasons to Stay Home and Bolt the Door
“Political correctness has become a straightjacket.” – Gary Oldman
“The old restriction meant that only the orthodox were allowed to discuss religion. Modern liberty means that nobody is allowed to discuss it. Good taste, the last and vilest of human superstitions, has succeeded in silencing us where all the rest have failed.” ― G.K. Chesterton, Heretics
“When political correctness first started coming around, it ruined Andrew Dice Clay and Eddie Murphy’s stand-up career. Sam Kinison died at just the right time, ’cause no one was going to tolerate what he was saying anymore either.” – Artie Lange
“The critical importance of honest journalism and a free flowing, respectful national conversation needs to be had in our country. But it is being buried as collateral damage in a war whose battles include political correctness and ideological orthodoxy.” – Juan Williams
“I think you have to judge everything based on your personal taste. And if that means being critical, so be it. I hate political correctness. I absolutely loathe it.” – Simon Cowell
“Those who are most sensitive about “politically incorrect” terminology are not the average black ghetto-dweller, Asian immigrant, abused woman or disabled person, but a minority of activists, many of whom do not even belong to any “oppressed” group but come from privileged strata of society.” ― Theodore Kaczynski, Industrial Society and Its Future
“Can’t call ‘em zombies anymore,” sighed Manny. He seemed almost wistful. “Now we gotta be all politically correct. It’s like the Cold Wars never happened.” ― David S.E. Zapanta, Posthumous
In my opinion there’s nothing more to be said on the subject. For all of you “politically correct weasels” out there . . . KMA.
Well, the New Year is upon us and all the partying is hopefully over. I wish I had a dollar for every celebrator who made the infamous Walk of Shame is the last two days. I’d be stinking rich I think.
I’m told that now is the time for reflection on the past year both good and bad. It’s supposed to give us a better perspective on things and to help us improve in 2014. I honestly think that’s nonsense but for laughs I continue to go along.
Here’s a quick recap of my last three months. Please don’t get overly excited you might just hurt yourself. As we get into the December remembrances I’ve added a few photo’s to help you understand.
OCTOBER
Grandson’s Birthday Party
One Year Blog Anniversary
A Broken Leg
NOVEMBER
Way Too many Doctor’s Visits
Thanksgiving
Sister’s Birthday
God Daughter’s Birthday
DECEMBER
Better-Half’s Mother’s Birthday
SNOW
ICE
More Doctors Appointments
More SNOW
More ICE
Christmas Eve Dinner
Much More SNOW
ICE Storm
Christmas
Much Much More Effing SNOW
Effing Black ICE
New Years Eve
SNOW
New Years Day
MORE SNOW
What have I learned from all of this? One thing immediately comes to mind . . . SPEND THE FREAKING WINTER IN FLORIDA ! ! !
One last photograph for your enjoyment. I took this from my car so it’s not as sharp as I’d like but this guy was hauling ass at the time. One of the last few remaining survivors from the Great Thanksgiving Day Turkey Massacre of 2013. Now you know why he’s running so fast.
I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like all the damn snow either.
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle died on July 7, 1940 in Sussex, England, of a heart attack. Six years and one month later I was born. Approximately 12 years later I read my first Sherlock Holmes story and saw my first Hollywood movie version starring Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce. I’ve been hooked ever since. It wasn’t until I was stationed in Korea in the 60’s that I happened upon a complete volume of Sherlock Holmes Adventures in the boudoir of a young Korean women. Since she was unable to read English I took immediate possession of the book and read it so often I wore it out.
In the intervening years I’ve read the entire Holmes collection many times. After leaving Korea I joined the Pennsylvania State Police which also helped prepare me for my thirty years of investigative experiences. I’m not saying that Sherlock Holmes was my total inspiration for my career choice but I couldn’t begin to guess how many times when initiating an investigation I thought to myself, “Watson, the game is afoot”.
Sometimes it’s hard for me to differentiate between Arthur Conan Doyle and Sherlock Holmes. Holmes has always seemed much more real to me as he as does with most of his dedicated fans. The official-unofficial date of birth for Sherlock Holmes has been argued about for years but the general consensuses is January 4, 1854. That would make him 160 years old this month. That’s quite an accomplishment and life span for a fictional character who is widely recognized as the individual solely responsible for the worldwide development of forensics as a tool in criminal investigations.
Just recently I bought myself a new Kindle e-reader and the very first purchase I made was the complete collection of Sherlock Holmes Mysteries. That’s four complete novels and fifty eight short stories. It gives me a sense of security knowing that I have those stories readily available at a moments notice. This new e-reader is small and easily carried in my pocket and I can take Sherlock with me everywhere, now that we’re both retired.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHERLOCK
P.S. If you happen to be in Europe this month why don’t you swing by Riga, Latvia for the Sherlock Holmes birthday celebration.
Check it out at: Riga, Latvia Sherlock Holmes Birthday Festival
I’m about to make you aware of a newly discovered ailment causing much suffering to the human race. It’s a lifelong ailment that flares up on the average of once a year to disorient and dismay a large segment of the population. It’s like herpes with a smile. It’s called by those aware of it’s existence, PTCS, or Post Traumatic Christmas Syndrome. It begins in November with a certain uneasiness as you see your home begin to fill with boxes of purchases, Christmas cards, and other green and red paraphernalia. After a week your breathing becomes labored as you see the first credit card balances arriving with lists of things you don’t remember buying. The stress level continues to climb as odd foods show up and containers of candy and fruit cakes magically appear.
This syndrome peaks in December just as your on the verge of total collapse. All of a sudden things begin to disappear and within days your life is as it once was. It’s like being in a time warp with four or five lost weeks that you’d rather just forget. It will take months for you to recuperate and to refill your bank accounts. Also months of exercise and dieting to lose that ten pounds of body fat that appeared out of nowhere.
It also effects your mind making you happy to have suffered through this terrible time and you can’t wait for the next outbreak. Unfortunately it’s very contagious and targets the youngest of us almost immediately. It appears to be an airborne virus spread by physical contact and made even worse by groups of people who insist on singing together.
It’s insidious! The children just don’t have a prayer of being spared this affliction that could haunt them for decades. For hundreds of years certain people have searched for a cure but to no avail. A certain doctor from somewhere in Europe, Dr. I. M. Grinchakowski died a horrible death some years ago when his immunization program went horribly awry and he died from an overdose of frankincense and myrrh. It was a sad day but the search continues for a cure.
I’m only just beginning to feel the change that’s’ coming. It was a terrible few months where I was stressed, over fed, and I found myself smiling way too much. I should be back on my feet by New Years but these strange effects of PTCS could linger for months.
I think we should all hire attorneys and have PTCS declared a disability. We could limit the government stipend to a once a year payment from Social Security that we’d receive early in December.
Vote Democratic!
Five shopping days leaves little time to do much of anything. In keeping with the holiday I thought a little Christmas poetry was in order. This year for me has been more than a little strange. Broken bones and weight loss were my themes this year and thankfully I found this version of “The Night Before Christmas” written for strictly for us dieters. Enjoy!
The Dieter’s Night Before Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips
Were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care
In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.
While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps
Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash,
Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.
The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow
Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.
When what to my wandering eyes should appear
A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick
I knew in a second that I’d wind up sick.
The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS
A Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.
From the top of the scales to the top of the hall
Now dash away pounds now dash away all.
Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress
My clothes were all bulging from too much excess.
My droll little mouth and my round little belly,
They shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
I spoke not a word but went straight to my work
Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.
And laying a finger beside my heartburn
Gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned.
I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry–
If temptation’s removed I’ll get thin by and by.
And I mumbled again as I turned for the night
In the morning I’ll starve… ’til I take that first bite!
Dieting for me isn’t quite Christmassy enough. Many years ago I had a “friend” sent me this next version which was much more to my liking. Sex always sells so why not a sexy “Twas the Nite Before” instead of the traditional version. Maybe on Christmas Eve I’ll sent along a copy of the original to get us all into the real Christmas spirit. Enjoy this off-color version for now.
Night Before Sexmas
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, and 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 poor 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 mangy reindeer.
With a fat little driver half out of his sled,
A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head.
Sure as I’m speaking, he was as 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 lamppost, 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 jacket 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 here awhile.”
He walked to the kitchen, 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 a six pack of panties, the edible kind.
A bra without nipples, a penis extension,
And several other things that I shouldn’t even mention.
A fuck ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,
A dildo so long, 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 tucked 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 the reigns of his hitch,
Saying, “Take me home Rudolph, this nights been a BITCH!”
The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,
The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!”
FIVE SHOPPING DAYS LEFT
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