Dear Darling Son and That Person You Married,

Merry Christmas to you, and please don't worry. I'm just fine considering I can't breathe or eat. The important thing is that you have a nice holiday, thousands of miles away from your ailing mother. I've sent along my last ten dollars in this card, which I hope you'll spend on my grandchildren. God knows their mother never buys them anything nice. They look so thin in their pictures, poor babies.

Thank you so much for the Christmas flowers, dear boy. I put them in the freezer so they'll stay fresh for my grave. Which reminds me -- we buried Grandma last week. I know she died years ago, but I got to yearning for a good funeral so Aunt Viola and I dug her up and had the services all over again. I would have invited you, but I know that woman you live with would have never let you come. I bet she's never even watched that videotape of my haemorrhoid surgery, has she?

Well son, it's time for me to crawl off to bed now. I lost my cane beating off muggers last week, but don't you worry about me. I'm also getting used to the cold since they turned my heat off and am grateful because the frost on my bed numbs the constant pain. Now don't you even think about sending any more money, because I know you need it for those expensive family vacations you take every year. Give my love to my darling grandbabies and my regards to whatever-her-name-is -- the one with the black roots who stole you screaming from my bosom.

Merry Christmas.

Love, Mom

Q. Why do reindeer have red noses?
A. They are not equipped with ABS and thus tend to bump into
   things on slippery surfaces. This is why Santa is often seen
   with a red nose (the sleigh doesn't have an airbag, either).

Q. Why does Santa use Elves?
A. There is no trade union for Elves. They're easy to exploit.

Q. Is there really a Mrs. Claus?
A. Highly unlikely. Since Santa is surrounded by male figures
  (Elves, reindeer named Rudolph, Donner, Blitzen etc.) his sexual
   preference seems to tend towards homosexuality. He is said to
   have some problems finding a gerontophile/zoophile Elf for a
   threesome with a reindeer, though.

Q. Does Santa really live on the North Pole?
A. Uncertain. However, rumor has it that the story of Santa and
   the North Pole has nothing to do with the Arctic, but that
   Santa is known to frequently ask the Elves and reindeer if he
   can shove his pole up north.  Obviously, this is related to
   the cryptic description "up where the sun don't shine", which
   applies to both the North Pole and assholes in general.

Q. Does Santa really work all year round making toys?
A. Get real! Check the box in which the Christmas gift came! Does
   it say "Made at the North Pole"? ("Made in China" more likely!)

Q. Then what does he DO all year?
A. Uncertain. Chasing Elves and reindeer, most likely. Maybe he
   spends his winters in Florida.

Q. Is the story about the little angel and the Christmas tree true?
A. Without a doubt. Santa has a temper and can develop a nasty
   attitude (he doesn't take stress too well).

Q. If so, why do the little angels on Christmas trees look happy
   (given the fact they have a tree up theirs)?
A. Little angels are known to be kinky.

Q. Do the polar bears on the North Pole cause Santa any trouble?
A. Not since Santa equipped the guard Elves with M-61 submachine
   guns.

Q. So Santa is basically a gun-crazy, homosexual, angry old man
   who exploits little Elves, fools around all day, and drives
   around in a sleigh that lacks basic security measures?
A. You forgot about the bestiality thing.

On the first day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
The Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the second day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
Two leaking bubble lights,
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the third day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
Three punctured ornaments,
Two leaking bubble lights,
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the fourth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
Four broken window candles,
Three punctured ornaments,
Two leaking bubble lights,
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the fifth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
Five chewed-up stockings,
Four broken window candles,
Three punctured ornaments,
Two leaking bubble lights,
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the sixth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
Six yards of soggy ribbon,
Five chewed-up stockings,
Four broken window candles,
Three punctured ornaments,
Two leaking bubble lights,
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the seventh day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
Seven scraps of wrapping paper,
Six yards of soggy ribbon,
Five chewed-up stockings,
Four broken window candles,
Three punctured ornaments,
Two leaking bubble lights,
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the eighth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
Eight tiny reindeer fragments,
Seven scraps of wrapping paper,
Six yards of soggy ribbon,
Five chewed-up stockings,
Four broken window candles,
Three punctured ornaments,
Two leaking bubble lights,
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the ninth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
My wreath in nine pieces,
Eight tiny reindeer fragments,
Seven scraps of wrapping paper,
Six yards of soggy ribbon,
Five chewed-up stockings,
Four broken window candles,
Three punctured ornaments,
Two leaking bubble lights,
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the tenth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
Ten Christmas cards I shoulda mailed,
My wreath in nine pieces,
Eight tiny reindeer fragments,
Seven scraps of wrapping paper,
Six yards of soggy ribbon,
Five chewed-up stockings,
Four broken window candles,
Three punctured ornaments,
Two leaking bubble lights,
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
Eleven unwrapped presents,
Ten Christmas cards I shoulda mailed,
My wreath in nine pieces,
Eight tiny reindeer fragments,
Seven scraps of wrapping paper,
Six yards of soggy ribbon,
Five chewed-up stockings,
Four broken window candles,
Three punctured ornaments,
Two leaking bubble lights,
And the Santa topper from the Christmas tree.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my puppy gave to me,
A dozen puppy kisses...
And I forgot all about the other eleven days.

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a user was using ... not even a mouse;
The programs were hung from the bugs in their code,
In hopes that a guru would soon cure their woes;

The data were nestled all snug in their beds,
While versions of software danced in their heads;
The boss dimmed the lights as I locked up my desk,
A couple days off and a well-deserved rest;

Then all of a sudden there came such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.

Away to the processor I flew like a flash,
What a terrible sound .. like a massive headcrash;
The lights they were blinking and beaming aglow,
The hardcopy printout said "Let service know!";

When what to my wandering eyes should appear,
On a silicon wafer ... a field engineer;
A little device driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Chip!

More rapid than Macro, his cursor insane,
He whistled and shouted like a video game.

Now, Pascal! Now, Basic!, Now, Fortran and Cobol!
On RPG! On PL/1, On Dibol and Snobol!
To the top of the registers, the bottom of core!
Run diagnostics and see what they store!

As memory leaves when electricity flies,
The 'Rep' cracked a smile and loosened his tie;
He was chubby and plump, said the place was a wreck,
And I laughed when I saw him (in spite of high tech).

A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He was dressed from his head to his feet in a suit,
His briefcase was heavy with tools to re-boot.

With bundles of bits bulging out of his slacks,
He looked like a pro 'bout to fix a blown pack.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Reseated PC boards, then turned with a smirk;

Hit return with his finger and said "Here it goes,"
And giving a nod, into the CRT he dove.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere leaving the site,
"Restore the data, and all will be right!"

Dear Santa:

Listen you ugly little troll, I've been helping you out every year, playing at being the perfect Christmas
Present, wearing skimpy bathing  suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many
tea parties, and I hate to break it to ya Santa, but IT'S DEFINITELY PAYBACK TIME!  There had
better be some changes around here this Christmas, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and
trust me, you won't wanna be  around to smell it).  So, here's my holiday wish list for 1998:
 

Santa:

1.  A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized  sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a hooker.
How much smaller are these bathing suits gonna get?  Do you have any idea what it feels
like to have nylon and velcro crawling up your butt?

2.  Real underwear that can be pulled on and off.  Preferably white.  What bonehead at Mattel decided to
cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to my skin?!?  It looks like cellulite!

3.  A REAL man...maybe GI Joe.  Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me Elmo over that wimped-out excuse for a boytoy Ken.  And what's with that earring  anyway?  If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me) anatomically correct.

4.  Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct.

5.  Breast reduction surgery.  I don't care whose arm you have to twist, get it done.

6.  A jogbra.  To wear until I get the surgery.

7.  A new career.  Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How about a systems analyst?  Or better yet,
a public relations senior account exec!

8.  A new, more 90s persona.  Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with a miniature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun,
outfitted with a fake fur coat, bottle of spray on blood and handcuffs; or "Stop Smoking Barbie," sporting a removable Nicotrol patch and equipped with several packs of gum.

9.  No more McDonald's endorsements.  The grease is wrecking  my vinyl.

10.  Mattel stock options. It's been 37 years--I think I deserve it.

Ok, Santa, that's it.  Considering my valuable contribution to society, I don't think these requests are out of line.
If you disagree, then you can find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas.

It's that simple.

Yours truly,
Barbie

IMMEDIATE DOWNSIZING MEASURES EMPLOYED

The recent announcement that Donner and Blitzen have elected to take the early reindeer retirement package has triggered a good deal of concern about whether they will be replaced, and about other restructuring
decisions at the North Pole.

Streamlining is due to the North Pole's loss of dominance of this season's gift distribution business. Home shopping channels, the Internet, and mail order catalogs have diminished Santa's market share. He could not sit idly by and permit further erosion of the profit picture.

The reindeer downsizing was made possible through the purchase of a late model Japanese sled for the CEO's annual trip. Improved productivity from Dasher and Dancer--who will retrain at the Harvard Business
School--is anticipated. Reduction in reindeer will also lessen airborne environmental emissions for which the North Pole has received unfavorable press.

I am pleased to inform you that Rudolph's role will not be disturbed. Tradition still counts for something at the North Pole.

CONTROVERSY:  Should the tree be real or fake?

YUPPIE:
Live tree, planted after use

MALE:
Fake tree, discarded after use

FEMALE:
Grow tree in house, adorned with fruits

REALITY:
Fake tree stays up until May, adorned with fur-balls

              <><><><><>

CONTROVERSY:  Should tree lights twinkle or stay constant?

YUPPIE:
Each bulb blinks to its own random rhythm

MALE:
Bulbs flash logo of football team

FEMALE:
Elegant flickering candles

REALITY:
Tree bursts into flames, burns house down

              <><><><><>

CONTROVERSY:  Should tree be topped with an angel or a star?

YUPPIE:
Gender-neutral angel; no submissive female stereotype

MALE:
Blonde angel, kneeling, in a wet T-shirt

FEMALE:
Authentic angel explains true meaning of Christmas

REALITY:
Hell's Angel steals the tree and the gifts

              <><><><><>

CONTROVERSY:  Do ya fling or hang tinsel?

YUPPIE:
Empower each strand with self-determining skills

MALE:
Six large clumps of tinsel on front of tree

FEMALE:
Each icicle hangs like strand of delicate artwork

REALITY:
More icicles on floor than on tree

              <><><><><>

CONTROVERSY:  Do ya open gifts on Christmas Eve or morning?

YUPPIE:
Gifts opened on posted, individual schedules so all enjoy surprise

MALE:
Anytime, just so it doesn't interfere with football

FEMALE:
Anytime the entire family is present

REALITY:
Doesn't matter, everyone's peeked anyway

              <><><><><>

CONTROVERSY:  Ham or Turkey for Christmas Dinner?

YUPPIE:
Baked Tofu Balls stuffed with wheat germ

MALE:
Anything, as long as there's plenty of both it...and beer

FEMALE:
A meal the entire family plans and prepares

REALITY:
Chinese carry-out or McDonald's

[Thanks to Sandy (AKA Ms Sam)]