I know that most people have all of their attention with Christmas involved with the buying and wrapping of gifts. While that is important to all of the kids, as an adult I’m in it for the food. For me Christmas is just a second Thanksgiving with gifts and a new list of foods for me to pig out on. Candy canes, cookies, fudges, brownies, pies, little cakes, and SUGAR, SUGAR, SUGAR!! Bring it on Santa, I’m ready to devour it all. So, folks, here are some limericks about food from a serious and chubby “foodie”. Enjoy!
It’s important to maintain a sense of humor with all of the anticipated stresses of these holidays. Here are two quotes and a hilarious joke that will hopefully put a smile on your face. Enjoy . . .
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A guy decides to buy his new girlfriend a pair of gloves for Christmas. After all, theyāve only been dating for three weeks so it seems like the ideal gift ā romantic, yet not too personal. He asks the girlfriendās younger sister to accompany him to buy them then so she can point out a pair sheād like. They go to the mall and the sister points out a pair of white gloves which the guy then buys. The sister then picks up a pair of panties for herself and buys them. But during the wrapping, the clerk mixes up the parcels without anyone realizing. As a result, the sister gets the gloves, and the guy takes home a gift box containing the panties.
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āI stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store and he asked for my autograph.ā
Shirley Temple
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Without checking, the guy rushes the gift to his sweetheart, but only after drafting this loving and helpful note to accompany it: āI chose these because I notice you are not in the habit of wearing any when we go out in the evening. If it had not been for your sister, I would have chosen the long ones with the buttons, but she wears the short ones that are easier to remove. These are a delicate shade, but the lady I bought them from showed me a pair sheād been wearing for the last three weeks, and they were hardly soiled. I had her try yours on for me and she looked really smart.
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āI once bought my kids a set of batteries for Christmas with a note on it saying, toys not included.ā
Bernard Manning
I wish I was there to put them on for you the first time. Thereās no doubt that other hands will come in contact with them before I have a chance to see you again. When you take them off remember to blow in them before putting them away, as they will naturally be a little damp from wearing. Just think how many times I will kiss them during the coming year. I hope you will wear them for the coming Christmas Eve.
P.S. The latest style is to wear them folded down with a little fur showing.ā
Iām not sure how everyone else was raised to celebrate Christmas but for me it entailed much more religion than anything else. My late Mother was Catholic through-and-through which translated into sending religious Christmas cards, attending midnight masses, and donating time to local organizations involved with decorating town areas. Being a kid, I was unceremoniously volunteered to help with almost everything she did whether I liked it or not.
As we age things tend to change a little and my approach to Christmas certainly did.Ā I was never all that interested in the religious portion of Christmas, but I went begrudgingly along just to please my mom until I reached the ripe old age of 13. Then I became what some people might call, difficult.Ā I must have been way ahead of my time if what Iāve learned in recent years is any indication.
A few years ago, my three-year-old grandson came to make his annual Christmas visit. It was the first time heād actually seen our decorated tree and all the trimmings. Weād been very busy wrapping gifts and there was a pile of them under the tree. I was sitting on the floor next to him when he quietly whispered to me “Are those our prizes?” I told him they were presents for everyone brought here a little early by a busy Santa. He gave me a long sideways glance while he thought about what Iād said. He must have decided Santa was still a real possibility, so the conversation turned right back around to the presents under the tree. I was again corrected by the little guy with “Grandpa those are prizes not presents” and ācan we open just one.ā I told him they couldnāt be opened until Christmas day but he insisted one of them had to be for him so we should open that one right now. Being chastised by a three-year-old takes some getting used to but I persevered and again refused his request.
Gifts and Presents are Really Prizes
My first thought was who put the word āprizeā into his head. Neither my better-half nor I would do it and Iām certain his parents wouldnāt do it either. That leaves just his friends at the daycare center that he attends almost every day. That small herd of little people who have nothing better to do all day than to play, fight, wrestle, nap, and tell each other the facts of life as translated from what theyāve heard at home. Somewhere along the way someone slipped in the word “prizes”, and it seems to have stuck.
There was no mention of Jesus, his birthday, the Magi, church or religion. Itās taken less than two generations to wean the kids from religion at Christmas to a more secular and materialistic outlook. I suppose in another few years weāll be calling Christmas “Prize Day”. If youāre a good little boy/girl, you win a prize but if youāre a bad little girl/boy youāll get one anyway. We wouldnāt want you to feel like a loser.
Having Christmas as a religious holiday gave me a fun and interesting childhood. It’s sad to see society steal away some of the youngster’s fantasies at such a young age. I’m not religious now but the memories I have of my family when I was young still make me happy. Christmas is a holiday for the little children and not so much for the adults. It took me a number of years before I made the decision for myself that Christmas wasn’t for me. Let’s let the tots have their fun, they’ll be plenty of time in the future for society to screw with their heads.
Santa comes down a chimney one Christmas Eve and to his surprise finds a gorgeous brunette waiting for him, wearing the sexiest lingerie imaginable. āSanta,ā she purrs, āCan you stay for a while?ā Santa says, āHo, Ho, Ho, Iāve gotta go! Have to deliver toys to children, you know!ā
She comes close, starts playing with his beard, whispers in his ear, āSanta, donāt you have a gift you would like to give me?ā Santa says, āHo, Ho, Ho, Iāve gotta go! Have to spread Christmas cheer, you know!ā
The brunette takes off her straps, giving Santa a view of her breasts and says, āSanta, are you sure thereās no gift youād like to leave?ā Santa says, āHey, Hey, Hey, might as well stay. I canāt shimmy up the chimney looking this way!ā
As a young child my parents made every attempt to make Christmas as memorable as possible for my sister and for me. I was almost 6 years old when this incident took place back when I still firmly believed the tales of Santa and his elves and all that good stuff. But in the back of my young mind, I secretly was beginning to have doubts. A lot of what I was being told by the family wasn’t what I was hearing on the playground. My friends had almost convinced me there was no Santa and that my parents were actually the real gift givers.
My parents apparently began to suspect that was wavering and that their propaganda was falling on deaf ears. In a conspiracy involving my mother’s sister, Annamae, they decided drastic action was going to be needed. I’d been acting out and being a little disrespectful so it was time for Santa to straighten me out.
It was about a week before Christmas and we were visiting my grandparents. I was being a huge pain in the butt like a lot of six-year-olds can be. It was just after dark and I was walking through the house to the kitchen. As I passed by a window I glanced over and almost crapped my pants. There was Santa standing there staring at me and smiling. I was terrified and quickly ran upstairs and hid under the bed and refused to come out until the coast was clear. My parents let me know in no uncertain terms that Santa was out looking for those children who were being good and visiting those that weren’t.
For the next day or so I was a perfect little angel but after dark I was afraid to look out the windows or to enter a dark room. Santa the terrorist had accomplished his mission. I saw him on two or three other occasions during the next few years, once at our home, and again in the cellar of my grandparents’ house. Unfortunately, I was already a nonbeliever by that time but went along with the charade to keep peace in the family and not to scare my little sister. By then I knew my parents were the ones I needed to suck up to and I did it in grand fashion.
Many years later while I was digging through a trunk in my aunt’s bedroom I discovered where Santa had been hiding. His retirement consisted of being hidden under a pile of sheets and pillowcases in an old trunk. My aunt laughed like crazy when I confronted her, and we both enjoyed the moment very much while I modeled the hat and beard. It was a real Hallmark moment for both of us.
What I never told her or my parents was that there was some lingering collateral damage from their actions. To this day during the Christmas season, I’m careful in dark rooms and try never look out the windows. In the malls or stores where Santas is holding court, I walk on by without making eye contact. The guy still scares the bejesus out of me. LOL
I’ve written many postings about the Christmas season over the years and as I recently read back through them, they appeared varied, somewhat interesting, and some even boring. I hate to admit that I was ever boring but there are times when Christmas can be a huge pain in the butt. I just don’t get the “buzz” like I did when I was a kid and it still amazes me that some people (without kids) turn into Christmas fanatics and go wild over it. I loved Christmas as a young child but each year I lost a little of the holiday magic everyone seems to be searching for. It saddens me a little but “it is what it is”. The only real enjoyment for me now is when the young grandchildren are running through the house wearing Christmas apparel and having a grand old time. I thoroughly enjoy living vicariously through them.
After my last two years of medical problems, I didn’t feel things would ever be getting any better. The years, 2019 and 2020, drained away what little fun I had left in me. If not for my better-half and a few other close family members I might not have survived to enjoy Christmas 2021, for that I am eternally grateful.
All of that being said, it’s time to prepare for the holidays once again. With the pandemic still gumming up the works I’m not sure what direction to take. Now that I’m cancer free you’d think I’d be ready to celebrate the hell out of just about anything. After the experiences of the last two years I’ve entered a phase in my life that was totally unexpected. I’ve become calmer, more thoughtful, and seriously introspective.
The grandchildren are no longer toddlers and are becoming actual people. They now can speak their minds and voice their feelings like never before. While I find that refreshing it makes my preparations for the holiday a little more troublesome. My education continues but now they are the teachers and I’m the student.
I’ve seen the Alvin & the Chipmunks movie a hundred times and have been hearing that theme song in my head for five years. I find myself humming it at the oddest times, in the shower and while I’m cutting grass. Don’t even get me started about “Lady and the Tramp”.
I’ll bet you any amount of money that I know more about the cartoon “Larva” than anyone you know over the age of 15. I actually found myself purchasing a “Larva” tee shirt three years ago that the grandson wanted to give to his grandmother. Apparently, it was a bigger hit than I anticipated since she still wears it occasionally in odd moments.
I’ve also been coerced into becoming a soccer fan. I’ve hated soccer with a passion and have avoided it for most of my life. Not anymore unfortunately. Both grandsons have decided that soccer is a great game but it’s always much more fun when family members come to the games to cheer them on. So, my newest job is the official family sports photographer. I get to sit and watch groups of five-six-seven-eight-year-old boys and girls playing “at” soccer. Just shoot me now. It’s finally improving this year since they’ve added a real game to their curriculum, baseball. This I actually enjoy watching.
I guess I should be happy. Those boys have enough energy for us all and I think it’s rubbing off on me a little. They now have me looking forward to a Christmas I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to celebrate.
Itās easy to get on a lengthy sentimental journey of sorts during the Christmas season but with this posting I hope to avoid that. Christmas and all of itās incarnations worldwide are interesting and strange to say the least. Here are a host of weird and strange Christmas factoids you may not be aware of but are true nonetheless.
Japanese people traditionally eat at KFC for Christmas dinner, thanks to a successful marketing campaign 40 years ago. KFC is so popular that customers must place their Christmas orders 2 months in advance.
Paul McCartney earns $400,000 a year off his Christmas song, which is widely regarded as the worst song he ever recorded.
Mistletoe kissing originated with fertility rites. The hanging sprig is a very ancient symbol of virility and therefore anybody standing beneath it is signaling that he or she is sexually available.
About half of Swedenās population watches Donald Duck cartoons every Christmas Eve since 1960 .
Mormon missionaries can only call home twice a year: once on Motherās Day and again on Christmas.
Donāt you feel bad for poor old Paul McCartney. He reaped only $400,000.00 a year for a crappy song. Keep the lucky bastard in your Christmas prayers. And KFC for Christmas in Japan? Thatās as weird as it gets.
Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen is the only record to get the UK Christmas Singles Chart Number One twice, once in 1975 and again in 1991.
Engineers designing the Voyager Space mission planned it to avoid planetary encounters over Thanksgiving and Christmas.
The US playing card company āBicycleā had manufactured a playing card in WW2. That, when the card was soaked, it would reveal an escape route for POWs. These cards were Christmas presents for all POWs in Germany. The Nazis were none the wiser.
The people of Oslo, Norway donate the Trafalgar Square Christmas tree every year in gratitude to the people of London for their assistance during WWII.
The Christmas Tree is a manufactured tradition. Victorian intellectuals invented the tradition as part of a social movement to consciously reform Christmas away from its tradition of raucous drinking.
Hooray for Freddy Mercury and Queen. Their Christmas song just has to be better than McCartneyās. The Victorians did us no favors so bring back all that raucous drinking, please.
Christmas as a "day off" is a recent innovation. As late as 1850, December 25 was not a legal holiday in New England.
The Beatles hold the record for most Xmas number 1 singles, topping the charts in 1963, 65 and 67.
The highest-grossing holiday movie is 2000’s How The Grinch Stole Christmas, which has raked in $175m so far.
Hanging stockings comes from the Dutch custom of leaving shoes packed with food for St Nicholas’s donkeys. He would leave small gifts in return.
There is no reference to angels singing anywhere in the Bible.
No angels singing in the Bible. Isnāt that just a giant kick in the ass? Personally I donāt think there was much singing at all in the Bible. People were too busy begatting and killing to have time for singing.
Jesus was probably born in a cave and not a wooden stable, say Biblical scholars.
In 1999, residents of the state of Maine in America built the world’s biggest ever snowman. He stood at 113ft tall.
The holly in a wreath symbolizes Christ’s crown of thorns while the red berries are drops of his blood.
Jingle Bells was the first song broadcast from space when Gemini 6 astronauts Tom Stafford and Wally Schirra sang it on December 16, 1965.
Astronomers believe the Star Of Bethlehem, which guided the wise men to Jesus, may have been a comet or the planet Uranus.
Iām glad to see the state of Maine making the list. Although how proud can you be about a giant snowman. Snow is about all we have to offer except for a few billion pine trees.
Santa Claus has different names around the world – Kriss Kringle in Germany, Le Befana in Italy, Pere Noel in France and Deushka Moroz (Grandfather Frost) in Russia.
In Britain, the best-selling holiday song is Band Aid’s 1984 track, Do They Know It’s Christmas?, which sold 3.5 million copies. Wham! is next in the same year with Last Christmas, selling 1.4 million.
US scientists calculated that Santa would have to visit 822 homes a second to deliver all the world’s presents on Christmas Eve, travelling at 650 miles a second.
Despite the tale of three wise men paying homage to baby Jesus, the Bible never gives a number. Matthew’s Gospel refers to merely "wise men".
There are 13 Santa’s in Iceland, each leaving a gift for children. They come down from the mountain one by one, starting on December 12 and have names like Spoon Licker, Door Sniffer and Meat Hook.
Another misquote from the Bible. Are you shocked? Not me. And thanks to all of those scientists for taking the time out of their busy work day to compute those figures. Get a life guys.
It’s early and I’m still snuggled up in this warm bed and I never ever want to leave it. My better-half is a person who isn’t entirely sure how to relax and just a few minutes ago she left this cozy bed to begin her endless list of chores. She’s driven by her imaginary To-Do list that instantly becomes her number one priority as soon as her feet hit the floor. I’m a goal oriented person myself but luckily I know when to just lay back, block out the world, and relax. Any minute now she’ll be delivering me a steaming hot cup of hazelnut coffee and then she’ll disappear into own little world of Christmas stuff and loud annoying music.
I don’t dislike Christmas as many people think but I also have no great love for it. As a kid It was much more of a religious holiday thanks mostly to my mother. As I grew older and lost my interest in organized religion I also lost most of my interest in Christmas. I really enjoy sharing gifts with friends and family and I actually enjoy the giving more than the receiving. My better-half is Christmas crazy and it’s gotten progressively worse since the birth of her grandson. With another child expected in March I can only assume next Christmas will be totally out of control.
There’s nine shopping days left until the big day and I’m actually looking forward to having the grandson under the tree and up to his neck in wrapping paper and gifts. He doesn’t realize yet because of his young age that this will be this last Christmas as the lone grand child. Next year he’ll have a new sibling to share the limelight with and so it will be forever. I plan on spoiling him a bit this year because I’m really sympathetic to his plight.
Iām even considering sneaking down to his house after dark disguised as Santa to look in the window and scare the crap out of him like my parents and family did to me. It was an odd way to show their love but after a few years of being deathly afraid of Santa I was able to man up and get on with my life. It was really scary.
I was about his age when my sister was born and things were never quite the same after that. I wasn’t too happy with sharing the limelight and neither will he Iām sure. That rivalry will last forever. So our little man is going to have one terrific Christmas which I hope he’ll remember and appreciate someday. I see I’m getting the evil eye from my better-half which means she’ll start bugging me to get the hell out of bed and get busy.
I fully intend to convince her that today I have my own To-Do list to worry about. Then I’ll post the blog, grab my camera, and disappear from the premises. I figure any time I can steal and spend driving around and taking pictures is a win/win. I could also hint that I need to buy her another gift or two and that should do the trick.
A few years ago I posted this story more as therapy for myself than anything else.Ā I suffer from a nagging case of Santa PTSB that recurs every December.Ā I want it to be known that I was fighting terrorism as a six year old before it became fashionable.Ā Each time I repost this story it helps me with my Santa issues like nothing else can.Ā That big fat and jolly SOB is known in our house as Osama Bin Santa and the only difference between him and other terrorists is that Santa loves victimizing young kids.Ā With that in mind here’s my scary and terrifying Christmas story.
As a young child my parents made every attempt to make Christmas memorable for my sister and me.Ā My sister was very young and I was just turning 6 years old. I still firmly believed all the stories about Santa’s elves and all the other good stuff. In the back of my young mind there was a seed of skepticism secretly growing. I was beginning to have serious doubts about Santa and my parents as well. A lot of what I was being told by my trusted family members wasn’t what I was hearing on the street (school yard). My friends had almost convinced me that the whole Santa thing was just BS and that the adults were actually the real gift givers.Ā It think it was at that early age that my trust issues with authority figures first began.
My parents began to suspect I was wavering and their propaganda was now falling on deaf ears. In a conspiracy involving my mother, her sister, my grandparents, and my Dad it was decided that drastic action was immediately necessary to convince me that Santa was the real deal. I’d been acting out a lot and being a little disrespectful to my elders so it was time for Santa to step in and straighten me out once and for all.
It was the week before Christmas and we were visiting my grandparents. I was being a huge pain in the ass as usual like a lot of six-year-olds can be at that time of the year. It was just after dark and I was walking through the house down a narrow hallway towards the kitchen. It was dark outside and as I passed the window I glanced over and almost had a six-year-old heart attack. There was Santa looking back at me and smiling a frightening smile. My blood turned cold and I got the hell out of there screaming all the way upstairs to hide under the bed.Ā My parents let me know in no uncertain terms that Santa was out looking for those children who were being good and keeping an eye on those that weren’t.Ā I was on the latter list, of course.
For the next few days I was a complete angel but after dark I was still nervous about looking out the windows. Santa the terrorist had accomplished his mission. I saw him again on two or three other occasions over the next two Christmases, once at our house, and again in the coal cellar at my grandparents home. Unfortunately Iād already consulted with my knowledgeable friends at the playground and I was officially a nonbeliever by then. I went along with the charade for as long as possible since my parentsĀ were giving the gifts.Ā They finally had a meeting and decided I was just playing them for extra toys and my game was over.
Many years later while I was digging through an old trunk in my auntās bedroom I discovered where Santa had been hiding for all these many years. His retirement consisted of being tucked under a pile of sheets and pillowcases in that old trunk. My aunt laughed until she cried when I confronted her.Ā We relived a very special and scary Christmas memory and enjoyed the moment very much.
What I never told her or my parents was the lingering collateral damage from their actions. To this day during the Christmas season I’m careful in dark rooms and hallways and try never to look out the windows, NEVER. In the malls and stores where Santa is holding court I stay the hell away. That guy still scares the bejesus out of me. Terrorism is no joke.
Well, weāre left with only 15 shopping days till Christmas. Instead of writing about myself and my Christmas stories, which I’ll save for later time, I found a few others that are both humorous and funny. The first story comes out of the great state of Connecticut and took place a few yeas ago. In my experience Connecticut has always had an overabundance of strange folks wandering the streets and once again I’ve been proven correct. I’ve never known anyone who found Santa all that sexy but apparently they’re a few people out there who do.Ā Here we go.
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DANBURY, Conn. (AP) ā Santa Claus says that a woman who sat on his lap was naughty, not nice. A Santa at the Danbury Fair mall said the woman groped him. “The security officer at the mall said Santa Claus has been sexually assaulted,” police Detective Lt. Thomas Michael said of the weekend complaint.
Sandrama Lamy, 33, of Danbury, was charged with sexual assault and breach of peace. She was released on a promise to appear in court on Jan. 3.
Police quickly found and identified Lamy because the woman was described as being on crutches, said Capt. Bob Myles. A call seeking comment from Lamy was answered by a recording Tuesday morning. A woman later called back and said: “It’s a false report and I don’t have any idea.”
Police did not give the name of the disconcerted Santa, but they said he is 65 and felt badly because children were waiting to see him. “He was apparently shocked and embarrassed by the whole incident,” Myles said.
A man who teaches hundreds of prospective Santaās a year _ “Santa Tim” Connaghan, president of realsantas.com, said he’s never heard of a similar incident, though it’s not unusual for adults to want to pose with Santa.
“I’ve had some very nice ladies sit on my lap,” said Connaghan, who did not train the Danbury Fair Santa. “Once in a while they’ll say ‘I hope Mrs. Claus isn’t going to be upset.’ You have to be discreet and kind and say ‘Oh no, she’ll be OK. You can sit here, but only for one photo.'”
A spokeswoman for Cherry Hill Photo, the company that coordinates Santaās for Danbury Fair, declined to comment Tuesday.
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Here’s a short list of the many and varied ways you can say Merry Christmas around the world. It may not interest some of you and that’s okay, enjoy them anyway.
Glaedelig Jul ā Danish
Vrolijike Kerst ā Dutch
Hyvvaa Joulua ā Finnish
Frohe Weihnachten ā German
Kala Christouyenna ā Greek
Gledileg Jol ā Icelandic
Buon Natale ā Italian
God Jul ā Norwegian
Feliz Natal ā Portuguese
God Jul ā Swedish
Iyi Noeller ā Turkish
There’s always room for more Christmas trivia. I think it’s a good thing to see and understand just how this holiday developed and has been interpreted around the world in so many different cultures.
Christmas Eve in Japan is a good day to eat fried chicken and strawberry shortcake.
Michigan has no official state song, but one, āMichigan, My Michigan,ā is frequently used. The words were written in 1863, and the melody used is that of the Christmas song āO Tannenbaumā.
Electric Christmas lights were first used in 1854.
Americaās official national Christmas tree is located in Kingās Canyon National Park in California. The tree, a giant sequoia called the āGeneral Grant Treeā, is over 90 meters (300 feet) high, and was made the official Christmas tree in 1925.
The first department store to feature a visit with Santa was the J. W. Parkinsonās store in Philadelphia in 1841. Astonishingly, no other department stores copied this event until 1890 when a store in Boston repeated it. Before long lines of children formed at stores across America to sit on Santaās lap and tell him their Christmas wish list. The department store Santa has been immortalized in films such as Miracle on 34th Street and Christmas Story.
āJingle Bellsā was originally written for a Thanksgiving celebration, in 1857.
Well, there you have it. Another short collection of useless Christmas trivia. It amazes me just how much information is available about Christmas not just here in the United States but around the world. The more I search the more I find and just so you know I intend to keep searching. Hopefully within the next day or two I’ll post my Christmas story involving Santa and and his visits to my home in Pennsylvania oh so many years ago.
everyuselessthing.com 