Q: What's red, white and blue and makes the entire community happy? A: Smurfette deep-throating a candy cane.

Buy me a beer if you want the story told Of why I moved down South from the frost and cold. Why I'm knee deep in therapy, liquor, and pills. Why I've given up charity in lieu of cheap thrills. Why I loathe mistletoe, fruitcake and bells -- And why I'll celebrate Xmas when it freezes in hell. You'll never see this elf make angels in snow. Hey thanks for the booze – so I guess here it goes: "Twas the night after Christmas in the North Pole No creatures were stirring, not one lousy soul. Santa's house appeared eerily silent But inside the fat man was hungry, was violent . This workshop of toys for kids of all ages Was filled with elves quaking in cages. Who woke up from their long winter's naps To find themselves snared in a devious trap. Hours before I had been bingeing on nog Passed out under the bed, I spied the whole saga. I saw all my brothers rounded up in cages. Sleepy victims of wicked midnight rampages. Then what to my horrified eyes should appear But a wild-eyed Santa pinching an elf by the ear. Each little sprite shook in their tights and boots. That this monster was Santa, no one could refute. His size and his beard gave him away as St. Nick His fangs and his scales made me quite sick Blood seemed to stain his white fluffy trim He was hunched, drooling, and disgustingly slim. "Come little helper! Climb into my maw!" He laughed, then casually ate the elf raw. He greedily sucked the imp's hide off the bone I was awed! I was scared! I was truly alone! Dainty elf paws clutched bars and cried Drunk on deinal; confounded by why. (He lost his count during his murderous spree Thought he'd rounded up most, but forgot about me!) His hunger was wracking his hunched-over frame With a crippling appetite that didn't know shame. "Don't eat us! We love you! Look at our faces!" The doomed little elves made their sad cases But Santa ignored them with a swipe of his fist Pulled out some parchment and started a list: "Silence, you nuggets – I'm trying to think Who to char-broil, who to blend into drink. Who to dice, fillet, bake or panfry Who to boil in soup, who to stuff in a pie" These taunts seemed so strange to come from a man Who held the dreams of children in his hands Teeth full of gristle, he then sadly revealed To his captive chorus of angel-faced veal, That humans are greedy, petty, drunk on their vices. And each Yuletide revel exacts gruesome prices These prices are paid by the magical gnomes Who hammer the toys that clutter up homes. The payment's a life – one for each holiday sin. Delivered by Santa, after his joyful break-ins. Perhaps he was cursed by the Easter Bunny Or an April Fool's jester who thought it'd be funny. The Great Pumpkin, Jack Frost or just maybe – That jealous and bratty New Years Eve baby. Maybe it was a clue, how well we were fed On cookies, cakes, lard balls and bread. But our nature's to love, not to distrust. So we hugged the fat Claus's and finished each crust. Ignorant to what would soon transpire We'd collapse in heaps by the crackling fire. Expecting the old man to come flying back And start making next years toys for his sack. But how does he have enough sprites for his belly? The final act of sorrow starts as fetal elf jelly. That ferments inside his wife until it's a broth Filled with thimble-sized elves that surge forth like froth. And these newborn elves, spawned pure from her womb. Don't understand: their workshop is really a tomb Their dimples are gumdrops, they sneeze pixie dust. Santa doesn't hate them – he's cursed with a lust. Elves are packed with vitamins A, C, and E We're awfully juicy, tart yet also fruity, We go well with gravy and mayonnaise and toast But casserole is how Santa likes us the most. Barbequed, fricasseed, or flambéed Sunny-side up, shish-ka-bobbed or flayed. Prepared anyway, our flesh is quite delicious And it's not like toy-happy children will miss us. Goodbye Carl, Zud, Sprinkles and Jan! Blossom, Hortense, Cobweb, and Stan! Julie, Miss Knickers, Fidget, and Ralph. I'm sorry you're dead, you wonderful elf. A mouthed greased with fat, Santa then hibernated. As Mrs. Claus squatted and grossly gestated And all that is left of my cherubic siblings. Was a pile of bells, curly-toed boots – mostly elf things So much for good cheer! But don't shed a tear: This gruesome cycle has happened for hundreds of years. And as the fist to survive Father's murderous rout In a month I stopped hiding and got the hell out." Now I spend my days soaking under a sun like a yolk (Yeah, I wish I'd have saved all or some of my folk) I now have a tan where the rum's in supply. Sewing up flags for Captain Fourth of July.

December 14, 1972 My dearest darling John: Who ever in the whole world would dream of getting a real Partridge in a Pear Tree? How can I ever express my pleasure. Thank you a hundred times for thinking of me this way. My love always, Agnes December 15, 1972 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 16, 1972 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've been too kind. All my love, Agnes December 17, 1972 Dear John: Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really, they are beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough. You are being too romantic. Affectionately, Agnes December 18, 1972 Dearest John: What a surprise. Today the postman delivered five golden rings, one for every finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, all those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves. All my love, Agnes December 19, 1972 Dear John: When I opened the door today there were actually six geese laying on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again huh? These 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 20, 1972 John: What's with you and those freaking birds?? Seven swans a swimming. What kind of damn joke is this? There's bird poop all over the house and they never stop the racket. I can't sleep at night and I'm a nervous wreck. It's not funny. So stop those freaking birds. Sincerely, Agnes December 21, 1972 O.K. Buster: I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with 8 maids a milking? It's not enough with all those birds and 8 maids a milking, but they had to bring their damn cows. There is manure all over the lawn and I can't move in my own house. Just lay off me, smartass. Agnes December 22, 1972 Hey Shithead: What are you? Some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers playing. And Christ do they play. They've never stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are getting upset and they're stepping all over those screeching birds. What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict me. You'll get yours! Agnes December 23, 1972 You rotten prick: Now there's ten ladies dancing. I don't know why I call those sluts ladies. They've been balling those pipers all night long. Now the cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river of shit. The Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm calling the police on you! Agnes December 24, 1972 Listen Fuckhead: What's with those eleven lords a leaping on those maids and ladies? Some of those broads will never walk again. Those pipers ran through the maids and have been committing sodomy with the cows. All twenty-three of the birds are dead. They've been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you're satisfied, you rotten vicious swine. Your sworn enemy, Agnes December 25, 1972 Dear Sir: This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McHolstein. The destruction, of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Miss McHolstein at Happy Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have been instructed to shoot you on sight. With this letter please find attached a warrant for your arrest. Cordially, Law Offices of Badger, Bender and Chole

A beautiful young blond woman boards a plane to LA with a ticket for the coach section. She looks at the seats in coach and then looks ahead to the first class seats. Seeing that the first class seats appear to be much larger and more comfortable, she moves forward to the last empty one. The flight attendant checks her ticket and tells the woman that her seat is in coach. The blond replies, "I'm young, blond and beautiful, and I'm going to sit here all the way to LA." Flustered, the flight attendant goes to the cockpit and informs the captain of the blond problem. The captain goes back and tells the woman that her assigned seat is in coach. Again, the blond replies, "I'm young, blond and beautiful, and I'm going to sit here all the way to LA." The captain doesn't want to cause a commotion, and so returns to the cockpit to discuss the blond with the co-pilot. The co-pilot says that he has a blond girlfriend, and that he can take care of the problem. He then goes back and briefly whispers something into the blonde's ear. She immediately gets up, says, "Thank you so much," hugs the co-pilot, and rushes back to her seat in the coach section. The pilot and flight attendant, who were watching with rapt attention, together ask the co-pilot what he had said to the woman. He replies, "I just told her that the first class section isn't going to LA."

Q: What did the blond customer say after reading the buxom waitress' name tag? A: "'Debbie'...that's cute. What did you name the other one?''

A woman sat on a plane heading for New York, when the pilot announces that because of difficulties with the plane's engines, he must make an emergency landing. The woman, fearing that this may be the end of her life looks over to a man sitting next to her and rips her shirt and bra off, and throws herself on him. "Make me feel like a woman again!" she screamed. So the man rips his shirt off and hands it to her. "Iron this."

What is it when a man talks dirty to a woman? Sexual harassment. What is it when a woman talks dirty to a man? $3.99 a minute.

There's a senior citizen driving on the highway. His wife calls him on his cell phone and in a worried voice says, ''Herman, be careful! I just heard on the radio that there was a madman driving the wrong way on Route 280!'' Herman says, ''I know, but there isn't just one, there are hundreds!''

Three old ladies are sitting in a diner, chatting about various things. One lady says, "You know, I'm getting really forgetful. This morning, I was standing at the top of the stairs, and I couldn't remember whether I had just come up or was about to go down." The second lady says, "You think that's bad? The other day, I was sitting on the edge of my bed and I couldn't remember whether I was going to sleep or had just woken up! The third lady smiles smugly, "Well, my memory is just as good as it's always been, knock on wood," she says as she raps on the table. Then with a startled look on her face, she asks, "Who's there?"

On the seventh day, God said, "Let there be football." And it was good. Later that day, God said, "Let there be one team to rule the others and set the standard for excellence." With that, he plucked a star from the heavens and placed it on the helmet of silver and blue. God said, "Let it be called, 'The Dallas Cowboys' - America's team." Later that day, God said, "Even Cowboys need a**holes." So he made their fans.