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Christmastime breeds irreverent humor... so here is some for you...Enjoy!

Twas the night before implementation and all through the house, Not a program was working not even a browse. The programmers hung by their tubes in despair, with hopes that a miracle would soon be there. The users were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of inquires danced in their heads. When out in the computer room there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter. And what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a super programmer with a six-pack of beer. His resume glowed with experience so rare, he turned out great code with a bit-pusher's flair. More rapid than eagles, his programs they came, and he cursed and muttered and called them by name. On update! On add! On inquiry! On delete! On batch jobs! On closing! On fuctions complete! His eyes were glazed over, fingers nimble and lean, from weekends and nights in front of the screen. A wink of his eye, and a twitch of his head, soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, turning specs into code, then turned with a jerk. And laying his fingers upon the "ENTER" key, the system came up and worked pefectly. The updates updated, the deletes they deleted, the inquires inquired, and closings completed. He tested each whistle, and tested each bell, with nary an abend, and all had gone well. The system was finished, the tests were concluded, the users' last changes were even included. And the user exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt, "It's just what I asked for, but not what I want!" (God bless our users, bless them every one!) Author Unknown

Barney Got Run Over By A Tractor =================================================== (to the tune of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer") Chorus: Barney got run over by a tractor Best of all it happened on TV All the little children are unhappy I am just beside myself with glee He was singing to the kiddies "You Wuv Me and I Wuv You" Now he is just a piece of roadkill Some furry purple bits of dino-goo. Chorus: Barney got run over by a tractor Best of all it happened on TV All the little children are unhappy I am just beside myself with glee I don't think the children like me But though I killed him, it's not wrong We're saved from evil propaganda That purple, nazi mind-controller's gone Chorus: Barney got run over by a tractor Best of all it happened on TV All the little children are unhappy I am just beside myself with glee My trial date is set for Tuesday I won't get off (so I've been told) 10 million kiddies saw me do it And the members of the jury are six years old Chorus: Oh' Barney got run over by a tractor Best of all it happened on TV All the little children are unhappy I am just beside myself with glee [ Come on everyone, one more time! ] Chorus: Oh' Barney got run over by a tractor Best of all it happened on TV All the little children are unhappy I am just beside myself with glee

IS THERE A SANTA CLAUS?
(from an engineering standpoint)

1) No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer which only Santa has ever seen.

2) There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - 378 million according to Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.

3) Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seemes logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house. Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc.

This means that Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second - a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

4) The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal anount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload - not even counting the weight of the sleigh - to 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison - this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth.

5) 353,000 tons travelling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance - this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecrafts re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second. Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.

In conclusion -

If Santa ever DID deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he's dead now.

How Santa knows... You better watch out, You better not cry, You better not pout, I'm telling you why, Santa Claus is tapping, Your phone. He's buggin your room, He's reading your mail, He's keeping a file And running a tail Santa Claus is tapping Your phone He hears you in the bedroom Surveills you out of doors And if that doesn't get the goods Then he'll use provocateurs. So you mustn't assume That you are secure On Christmas Eve He'll kick in your door Santa Claus is tapping Your phone (Supposedly written for and sung at a U.S. Department of Justice, Office of Legal Counsel, Christmas party during the Carter Administration.) --Eugene Volokh, UCLA Law

Politically Correct Santa His workers no longer would answer to "elves", "Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves. And labor conditions at the North Pole Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul. Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety, Released to the wilds by the Humane Society. And equal employment had made it quite clear That Santa had better not use just reindeer. So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid, Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid! The runners had been removed from his sleigh; The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A. And people had started to call for the cops When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops. Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened. His fur trimmed red suit was called "unenlightened". And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows, Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation, Demanding millions in over-due compensation. So, half of the reindeer were gone, and his wife, Who suddenly said she'd had enough of this life, Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz, Demanding from now on her title was Ms. And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion That making a choice could cause so much commotion. Nothing of leather, nothing of fur, Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her. Nothing that might be construed to pollute. Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot. Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise. Nothing for just girls. Or just for boys. Nothing that claimed to be gender specific. Nothing that's war-like or non-pacifistic. No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth. Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth. And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden, Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden. For they raised the hackles of those psychological Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological. No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt; Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt. Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe; And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away. So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed; He just could not figure out what to do next. He tried to be merry, tried to be gay, But you've got to be careful with that word today. His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground; Nothing fully acceptable was to be found. Something special was needed, a gift that he might Give to all without angering the left or the right. A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision, Each group of people, every religion. Every ethnicity, every hue, Everyone, everywhere...even you. So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth... "May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth." (c) Harvey Ehrlich, 1992

The Real version of the popular Christmas Song ================================================ Correspondence attached:: -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 14th Dearest John: I went to the door today and the postman delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a delightful gift. I couldn't have been more surprised. With dearest love and affection, Agnes -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 15th Dearest John: Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine, two turtle doves.... I'm just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just adorable. All my love, Agnes -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 16th Dear John: Oh, aren't you the extravagant one! Now I must protest. I don't deserve such generosity. Three french hens. They are just darling but I must insist.... you're just too kind. Love Agnes -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 17th Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really! They are beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough? You're being too romantic. Affectionately, Agnes -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 18th Dearest John: What a surprise! Today the postman delivered five golden rings. One for each finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, John, all those squawking birds were beginning to get on my nerves. All my love, Agnes -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 19th Dear John: When I opened the door there were actually six geese a-laying on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again, huh? Those geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. PLEASE STOP! Cordially, Agnes -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 20th John: What's with you and those damn birds???? Seven swans a-swimming. What kind of goddam joke is this? There's bird shit all over the house and they never stop the racket. I'm a nervous wreck and I can't sleep all night. IT'S NOT FUNNY.......So stop with those damn birds. Sincerely, Agnes -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 21st OK Buster: I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with eight maids a-milking? It's not enough with all those birds and eight maids a-milking, but they had to bring their own goddam cows. There is crap all over the lawn and I can't move into my own house. Just lay off me. SMART ASS. Ag -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 22nd Hey Shithead: What are you? Some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers piping. And Christ - do they pipe. They never stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are upset are stepping all over those screeching birds. No wonder they screeh. What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petetion to evict me. You'll get yours. >From Ag -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 23rd You Rotten Prick: Now there's ten ladies dancing - I don't know why I call those sluts ladies. They've been balling those nine pipers all night long. Now the cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river of shit. The commisioner of buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm sicking the police on you. One who means it, Ag -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 24th Listen Fuckhead: What's with the eleven lords a-leaping on those maids and aforementioned "ladies"? Some of those broads will never walk again. Those pipers ran through the maids and have been commiting sodomy with the cows. All 234 of the birds are dead. They have been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you're satisfied, you rotten swine. Your sworn enemy, Miss Agnes McCallister -------------------------------------------------------------------- December 25th (From the law offices Taeker, Spredar, and Baegar) Dear Sir: This is to acknowledge your latest gift of tweleve drummers drumming, which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McCallister. The destruction, of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Miss McCallister at Happy-Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have instructions to shoot you on sight. With this letter, please find attached a warrant for your arrest. Taeker, Spredar, and Baegar Attorneys at Law

Humorous Santa Options 1. Instead of milk and cookies, leave him a salad, and a note explaining that you think he could stand to lose a few pounds. 2. While he's in the house, go find his sleigh and write him a speeding ticket. 3. Leave him a note, explaining that you've gone away for the weekend. Ask if he would mind watering your plants. 4. While he's in the house, replace all his reindeer with exact replicas. Then wait and see what happens when he tries to get them to fly. 5. Keep an angry bull in your living room. If you think a bull goes crazy when he sees a little red cape, wait until he sees that big, red Santa suit! 6. Build an army of mean-looking snowmen on the roof, holding signs that say "We hate Christmas," and "Go away Santa." 7. Leave a note by the telephone, telling Santa that Mrs. Claus called and wanted to remind him to pick up some milk and a loaf of bread on his way home. 8. Throw a surprise party for Santa when he comes down the chimney. Refuse to let him leave until the strippers arrive. 9. While he's in the house, find the sleigh and sit in it. As soon as he comes back and sees you, tell him that he shouldn't have missed that last payment, and take off. 10. Leave a plate filled with cookies and a glass of milk out, with a note that says, "For The Tooth Fairy. :)" Leave another plate out with half a stale cookie and a few drops of skim milk in a dirty glass with a note that says, "For Santa. :(" 11. Take everything out of your house as if it's just been robbed. When Santa arrives, show up dressed like a policeman and say, "Well, well. They always return to the scene of the crime." 12. Leave out a copy of your Christmas list with last-minute changes and corrections. 13. While he's in the house, cover the top of the chimney with barbed wire. 14. Leave lots of hunting trophies and guns out where Santa's sure to see them. Go outside, yell, "Ooh! Look! A deer! And he's got a red nose!" and fire a gun. 15. Leave Santa a note, explaining that you've moved. Include a map with unclear and hard-to-read directions to your new house. 16. Set a bear trap at the bottom of the chimney. Wait for Santa to get caught in it, and then explain that you're sorry, but from a distance, he looked like a bear. 17. Leave out a Santa suit, with a dry-cleaning bill. 18. Paint "hoof-prints" all over your face and clothes. While he's in the house, go out on the roof. When he comes back up, act like you've been "trampled." Threaten to sue. 19. Instead of ornaments, decorate your tree with Easter eggs. 20. Dress up like the Easter Bunny. Wait for Santa to come and then say, "This neighborhood ain't big enough for the both of us."

HOW COLD IS IT? An annotated thermometer 50 - Miami residents turn on the heat 40 - Californians shiver uncontrollably Wisconsinites go swimming 35 - Italian cars don't start 32 - Water freezes 30 - You can see your breath You plan your vacation to Australia Wisconsinites put on T-shirts Politicians begin to worry about the homeless 25 - Boston water freezes Californians weep pitiably Wisconsinites eat ice cream Canadians go swimming Cat insists on sleeping on your bed with you 20 - You can hear your breath Politicians begin to talk about the homeless New York City water freezes Miami residents plan vacation further South 15 - You plan a vacation in Mexico Cat insists on sleeping in your bed with you 10 - Too cold to snow You need jumper cables to get the car going 5 - You plan your vacation in Houston 0 - American cars don't start Alaskans put on T-shirts Too cold to skate -5 - You can cut your breath and use it to build an igloo Wisconsinites' stick tongue on metal objects Miami residents cease to exist -10 - Cat insists on sleeping in your pajamas with you Politicians actually do something about the homeless Wisconsinites shovel snow off roof -15 - Too cold to think You need jumper cables to get the driver going Only ice chunks hit the bottom of the outhouse -20 - You plan a two week hot bath The Mighty Monongahela freezes Japanese cars don't start -25 - Californians disappear Wisconsinites button top button Canadians put on sweaters Your cat helps you plan your trip South -30 - Congressional hot air freezes -50 - Hell freezes over Polar bears move south

A Texan Moves North January 10th: It's 5:00pm and it's starting to snow. The first of the season and the first one we've seen in years. The wife and I took our hot buttered rum and sat by the picture window watching the soft flakes drift down, cling to the trees and cover the ground. It was so beautiful. January 11th: We woke to a lovely blanket of crystal white snow covering the land scape. What a fantastic sight. Every tree and shrub covered with a beautiful mantle. I shoveled snow for the first time in my life and loved it. I did both driveway and sidewalk. Later, a snowplow came along and accidentally covered up the driveway with compacted snow from the street. The driver waved and smiled. I waved back and shoveled again. January 12th: It snowed an additional 5 inches last night and the temperature has dropped to 11 degrees. Several tree limbs have snapped from the snow. I shoveled the drive again. Afterwards, the snowplow came again. Now the snow is brownish-gray. January 13th: It warmed enough today to cause slush which froze again when the temperature dropped. Bought snow tires for both cars. Fell on my ass in the driveway, $145.00 to chiropractor. Nothing broken. More snow. January 14th: Still cold as hell. Sold the wife's car. Bought a 4x4 to get her to work. Slid into a guardrail anyway with considerable damage. Another 8 inches of snow last night. Both vehicles covered with salt and crud. More shoveling for me. The goddamn snowplow came twice today. January 15th: It's 8 fucking degreas outside. More fucking snow. Not a tree on our property that hasn't been damaged. Power was off most of the night. Tried to keep from freezing to death with candles and a kerosene heater, which tipped over and nearly burned the fucking house down. Managed to put out the flames but suffered 2nd degree burns on my hands plus lost all my eyelashes and eyebrows. Car slid off the road on the way to the emergency room, and totaled it. January 16th: More motherfucking goddamn white shit keeps coming down. Have to put on all the clothes we own just to get to the fucking mailbox. If I ever catch the son-of-a-bitch who drives the fucking snowplow, I'll tear open his chest and rip out his heart. I think he hides around the corner till after I've shoveled. Power is still off. Toilet froze. Roof has started to cave in. January 17th: Six more fucking inches of this white shit and fucking sleet and no telling what the fuck else will happen. I wounded the snowplow asshole with an ice ax, but he got away. Wife left me. The car won't start. I think I'm going snow-blind. I can't feel my fucking toes. haven't seen the sun in weeks and more white shit forecasted. Wind chill is 22 below. moving back to Texas.

Apologies to Sondheim, who won't see this anyway; and to Philadelphians, who may take it personally.) SEND IN THE PLOWS Isn't it white? Isn't it flat? The street is somewhere over there, beneath all of that-- Send in the plows. Don't we get weird, cooped up all day? Regress 'til we're Calvin and Hobbes! Go out and play! But where are the plows? Send in the plows. Just when I'd dug out to the cars, Finally brushing them off to see which one was ours, Tried the ignition again, even got it to run, Another foot fell. Back to square one. I don't mean to bitch, or be unkind. But cross-country skiers on freeways are out of their minds! Call for the plows. How can they plow A street they can't find? Isn't it white? Isn't it bleak? Home on the modem today, one more net-geek. And where are the plows? There ought to be plows. Well, maybe next week.

(Questions about Christmas? Let him know...) GOD'S TOTAL QUALITY MANAGEMENT QUESTIONNAIRE 3/3/95 God would like to thank you for your belief and patronage. In order to better serve your needs, He asks that you take a few moments to answer the following questions. Please keep in mind that your responses will be kept completely confidential, and that you need not disclose your name or address unless you prefer a direct response to comments or suggestions. 1. How did you find out about God? __ Newspaper __ Other Book __ Television __ Divine Inspiration __ Word of mouth __ Near Death Experience __ Bible __ Other __ Torah (specify): _____________ 2. Are you currently using any other source of inspiration in addition to God? Please check all that apply. __ Tarot __ Lottery __ Horoscope __ Television __ Fortune cookies __ Ann Landers __ Self-help books __ Sex __ Biorythms __ Alcohol or drugs __ Mantras __ Other: _____________________ __ Insurance policies __ None 3. God employs a limited degree of Divine Intervention to preserve the balanced level of felt presence and blind faith. Which would you prefer (circle one)? a. More Divine Intervention b. Less Divine Intervention c. Current level of Divine Intervention is just right d. Don't know 4. God also attempts to maintain a balanced level of disasters and miracles. Please rate on a scale of 1 - 5 his handling of the following (1=unsatisfactory, 5=excellent): a. Disasters (flood, famine, earthquake, war) 1 2 3 4 5 b. Miracles (rescues, spontaneous remission of disease, sports upsets) 1 2 3 4 5 5. Do you have any additional comments or suggestions for improving the quality of God's services? (Attach an additional sheet if necessary): _________________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________________________ Thank you!

God Rest Ye, Merry Unitarians Gods rest ye, Unitarians, let nothing you dismay; Remember there's no evidence there was a Christmas Day; When Christ was born is just not known, no matter what they say, O, Tidings of reason and fact, reason and fact, Glad tidings of reason and fact. Our current Christmas Customs come from Persia and from Greece, >From solstice celebrations of the ancient Middle East. This whole darn Christmas spiel is just another pagan feast, O, Tidings of reason and fact, reason and fact, Glad tidings of reason and fact. There was no star of Bethlehem, there was no angels' song; There could not have been wise men for the trip would take too long. The stories in the Bible are historically wrong, O, Tidings of reason and fact, reason and fact, Glad tidings of reason and fact!

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