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.”

“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!”

The little girl replies, “I want a Barbie and a G.I. Joe.”

Santa looks at the little girl for a moment and says, “I thought Barbie comes with Ken.”

“No,” said the little girl. “She comes with G.I. Joe, she fakes it with Ken.”

19,000 pieces — bolts, washers and screws, To be put together, and me with no clue; All I had for tools were some needle-nose pliers, A Swiss Army Knife and a Phillips screwdriver.

When out on the lawn there arose such a racket, I threw down my pliers and put on my jacket; I swung open the door, to check out the noise, And saw a red-suited man, bringing more toys.

I shouted, “Hey, you on my lawn, what’s the idea!” As my shrubs were being eaten by eight small reindeer; The big man looked up at me and said with a smile, “There’s more to assemble — it will take you a while.”

“My kids don’t need more toys,” I countered right quick, But he wouldn’t hear “no,” that stubborn Saint Nick; “These new toys have detailed instructions,” he said, And he winked as he lifted a bag from his sled.

Then he pulled a bunch of woodchips out of his bag, “It’s a dollhouse,” he said, as he looked at the tag; “It has 6,000 small pieces, plus one or two, You can make it if you have a gallon of glue.”

“And, there are no axle holes on this toy car, With only two wheels it won’t go very far; Perhaps you can whip up some rubber for tires, I’m sure you can do it before you retire.”

“But Nick,” I pleaded, “don’t you have simple toys? Can’t they build simply things — those elves you employ?” “How ’bout a ball, a rag doll or gun that shoots darts, Or some other present made of only one part?”

Santa said, “Those kinds of toys are passé these days, It’s complicated gadgets that are all the craze; So, please take these here toys and I’ll be on my way, I have houses to get to and visits to pay.”

“I don’t want any more toys!” I yelled quite in shock, Then I slammed the door shut and I secured the lock; And I took off my coat and went back to my bench, And tried to read the directions — printed in French.

Then just as I found I was missing a screw, That old coot came sneaking right down through my flue; “You forgot all these toys,” said the man dressed in red, Then he put his sack right down and here’s what he said.

“You’re not alone staying up all through the night, Dads all over the world are in the same plight; They don’t have the right tools, or any instructions, They’re eyes are bleary and they’re minds don’t quite function.”

Then he left me there speechless, alone with my work, And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk; And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle; But I heard him exclaim, as he jumped in his sleigh, “You’ll need 62 batteries — all triple A.”

‘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 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 its 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, 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 pair of panties, the edible kind.

A bra without nipples, a penis extension, And several other things that I shouldn’t even mention.

A cock ring, a G-string, and all types of oil, A dildo so long, it lay in a coil.

This suff 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 reins of his hitch, Take me home Rudolph, this night’s been a bitch!

The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout, The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!

click to enlarge

When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were
about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows
where. More stress.

Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked, and the
toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys. So, 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 the straw
end of the broom.

Just then the doorbell rang, and irritable Santa trudged to the door. He
opened the door, 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 stick it?”

Thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas
tree.