Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Memo from Santa

Memo from Santa:

I regret to inform you that, effective immediately, I will no longer serve Georgia, Florida, West Virginia, Virginia, North and South Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, Mississippi, Arizona, Texas, Ohio or Alabama on Christmas Eve.

Due to overwhelming current population of the earth, my contract was renegotiated by North Anerican Fairies and Elves Local 209. As part of the new and better contract, I also get longer breaks for milk and cookies, so keep that in mind.

However, I'm certain that your children will be in good hands with your local replacement, who happens to be my third cousin, Bubba Claus.

His side of the family is from the South Pole. He shares my goal of delivering toys to all the good boys and girls; however, there are a few differences between us.

Differences such as:

1. There is no danger of the Grinch stealing your presents from Bubba Claus. He has a gun rack on his sleigh and a bumper sticker that reads: "These toys insured by Smith and Wesson."

2. Instead of milk and cookies, Bubba Claus prefers that children leave RC cola and pork rinds or a moon pie on the fireplace. And Bubba doesn't smoke a pipe; He dips a little snuff, so please have an empty spit can handy.

3. Bubba Claus' sleigh is pulled by floppy-eared, flyin' coon dogs instead of reindeer. I made the mistake of loaning him a couple of my reindeer one time, and Blitzen's head now overlooks Bubba's fireplace.

4. You won't hear, "On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner, and Blitzen..." when Bubba Clause arrives. Instead, you'll hear, "On Earnhardt, on Andretti, on Elliott and Petty."

5. "Ho, Ho, Ho" has been replaced by "Yee Haw." And you also are likely to hear Bubba's elves respond, "I her'd dat."

6. As required by Southern highway laws, Bubba Claus' sleigh does have a Yosemite Sam safety triangle on the back with the words "Back Off."

7. The usual Christmas movie classics such as "Miracle on 34th Street" and "It's a Wonderful Life" will not be shown in your negotiated viewing area. Instead, you'll see "Boss Hogg Saves Christmas" and "Smokey and the Bandit IV" featuring Burt Reynolds as Bubba Claus and
dozens of state patrol cars crashing into each other.

And finally,

8. Bubba Claus doesn't wear a belt. If I were you, I'd make sure you, the wife and the kids turn the other way when he bends over to put presents under the tree.

Signed,

Santa Claus

2 Comments:

At Thursday, December 22, 2005 8:52:00 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

This poor post has been here almost 24 hours without a reply, so here's mine.

Geezer Christmas:

'Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest, and all of us seniors were looking our best.

Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry;

Our punchbowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.

A bed sock was taped to each walker, in hope, that Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.

We surely were lucky to be there with friends, secure in this residence and in our Depends.

Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts, like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.

The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth, and from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath.

The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row, reflecting our candle's magnificent glow.

Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop -- was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.

Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great, then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.

The social director then had us play games, like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?"

Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats, proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.

Our resident wand'rer was tied to her chair, in hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.

Security lights on the new fallen snow
made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.

Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter (But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter).

A strange little fellow flew in through the door, then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.

'Twas just our Director, all togged out in red. He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.

We knew from the way that he shucked and jived, that our social-security checks had arrived.

We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak, 'till the clock tinkled out its soft eight-p.m. stroke.

And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds, while nurses distributed nocturnal meds.

And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest, 'fore long you'll be with us , we wish you the best.

Not this geezer, though, I have a better idea: I'm off to the range.

 
At Friday, December 23, 2005 11:30:00 AM, Blogger Matt Barr said...

Wait. Ohio? Southern Ohio, I can see. That's mostly Kentucky.

 

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