Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

How are you? How is Mrs. Claus? I hope everyone, from the reindeer to the
elves, is fine. I have been a very good boy this year. I would like an
X-Box 360 with Call of Duty IV and an iPhone 4 for Christmas. I hope you

remember that come Christmas Day.

Merry Christmas,

Timmy Jones 

 

Dear Timmy,

Thank you for you letter. Mrs. Claus, the reindeer and the elves are all
fine and thank you for asking about them. Santa is a little worried all the
time you spend playing video games and texting. Santa wouldn't want you to
get fat. Since you have indeed been a good boy, I think I'll bring you
something you can go outside and play with.

Merry Christmas,

Santa Claus 

 

Mr. Claus,

Seeing that I have fulfilled the "naughty vs. nice" contract, set by you I
might add, I feel confident that you can see your way clear to granting me
what I have asked for. I certainly wouldn't want to turn this joyous season
into one of litigation. Also, don't you think that a jibe at my weight
coming from an overweight man who goes out once a year is a bit trite?

Respectfully,

Tim Jones 

 

Mr. Jones,

While I have acknowledged you have met the "nice" criteria, need I remind
you that your Christmas list is a request and in no way is it a guarantee
of services provided. Should you wish to pursue legal action, well that is
your right. Please know, however, that my attorney's have been on retainer
ever since the Burgermeister Meisterburger incident and will be more than
happy to take you on in open court. Additionally, the exercise I alluded to
will not only improve your health, but also improve you social skills and
potentially help clear up a complexion that looks like the bottom of the
Burger King fry bin most days.

Very Truly Yours,

S Claus 

 

Now look here Fat Man,

I told you what I want and I expect you to bring it. I was attempting to
be polite about this but you brought my looks and my friends into this. Now
you just be disrespecting me. I'm about to tweet my boys and we're gonna be
waiting for your fat ass and I'm taking my game console, my game, my
phone, and whatever else I want. WHAT EVER I WANT, MAN!

T-Bone 

 

Listen Pizza Face,

Seriously??? You think a dude that breaks into every house in the world on
one night and never gets caught sweats a skinny g-banger wannabe? "He sees
you when you're sleeping; He knows when you're awake". Sound familiar,
genius? You know what kind of resources I have at my disposal. I got your sh*t
wired, Jack. I go all around the world and see ways to hurt people that if
I described them right now, you'd throw up your Totino's pizza roll all
over the carpet of your mom's basement. You're not getting what you asked
for, but I'm still stopping by your crib to stomp a mud hole in you're a** and
then walk it dry. Chew on that, Petunia.
S Clizzy 

 

Dear Santa,

Bring me whatever you see fit. I'll appreciate anything.

Timmy 

 

Timmy,

That's what I thought you little bastard.

Santa

 

Wal-Mart called

Wal-Mart called, your family Christmas photos are in... 

This puts a whole new spin on the phrase "family tree!"

Dad realizes that if the 40 pounds of tinsel catches fire on that tree, he has a better chance of survival without the flammable matching pj's.

I don't know who's more horrified, Santa or the "Death Becomes Me" kids.

Tragic.

Speechless (I just hope they have money tucked away somewhere in those fig leaves for counseling for the kids).

I can see why they won't let you have children of your own.

WTF?

Seriously, that was the shirt you decided to wear for the family photo with Santa?

It probably seemed like a better idea in their heads.

Either Grandma is getting her sexy on, or Mom is looking for her youth -- please stop looking.

OMG - it's like Christmas "camo"!

What's with the Clown? And the eyebrows?

Lil' Jo may be seeing the Baby Jesus sooner than he thinks.

What was the motivation behind this one -- Merry Christmas from Mom, the kids, and Dad the porn star?

Yeah, that'll keep him quiet for a while.

Get a room. On second thought, our hands are full, never mind.

Holy Christmas Batman, Batgirl, Batdog and Robin.

The annual Christmas picture of the "I'm never going to get to sleep with a man" club.

Is Santa being held hostage?

Why is it that people think it's okay to make a complete ass of Grandma?

"Oh Joseph, he looks just like you!"

These guys are trying way too hard to be bad. It's painful.

Yikes!

Merry Christmas from the Dork family -- thank you, thank you vurra much.

This takes Christmas to a whole new level.

Okay...

They have entirely too much time on their hands to dream this one up.

I don't know what's more horrifying - the family pj's or the hideous furry couch.

Get your snowman on!

To you, and your kin, we wish you peace and joy!

(Is anyone else concerned about the look in these kids' eyes?)

The first signs of little Jimmy's imminent psychotic break.

This is just so wrong on so many levels.

Nice balloon, kid.

Deductive reasoning

Subject: Deductive Reasoning

Yesterday after mowing the lawn I sat down and had a
couple of cold beers. The day was really quite beautiful, and the
brew facilitated some deep thinking on various topics.

One of the things I found my mind gravitating to was the age old question:
...
Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the balls?
Women always maintain that giving birth is way more painful.

Well, after another couple beers, and some
heavy deductive reasoning, I've come up with the definitive answer to
that question:

Getting kicked in the balls has to be way more painful than having a
baby. Here's the reason for my conclusion:

A year or so after giving birth, a woman will often say, "it might be
nice to have another child."
On the other hand, you never hear a guy say, "You know, I think I'd
like another kick in the balls."

I rest my case

Cool boat

killing a pig

a golf story

It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them.Some are oversensitive, and there's nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.

My name is Ron. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Carol Anne. When I retired a few years ago, it became necessary for Carol Anne to get a full-time job, along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed. Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age.

I usually get home from the golf club about the same time she gets home from work. Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club, so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door.

She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.

Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, Boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two, or even three days. That way, she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.

When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half-finished mowing the yard. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me, too.

I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Carol Anne.
I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However, Guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.

Signed,
Ron

EDITOR'S NOTE: Ron died suddenly on January 31 of a perforated rectum. The police report says he was found with a Calloway extra-long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club jammed up his rear end, with barely 5 inches of grip showing, and a sledge hammer laying nearby. His wife Carol Anne was arrested and charged with murder. The all-woman jury took only 10 minutes to find her Not Guilty, accepting her defense that Ron, somehow without looking, accidentally sat down on his golf club.

Lee Elia where are you now?

Hey all you Cubs fans, lets get ready for the season. This is the uncut version so turn your speakers up real loud.