3261 Bar Jokes In Our Database
48 Holiday Jokes
This is page 2 of 5 pages displaying a total of 48 Holiday jokes.
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After Christmas Dieting After Christmas Dieting Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house, Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse. The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd tasted at the holiday parties had gone to my waist. When I got on the scales, there arose such a number! When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber). I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared; The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared, The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please." As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt And prepared once again to do battle with dirt--- I said to myself, as I only can "You can't spend a winter disguised as a man!" So--away with the last of the sour cream dip, Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip Every last bit of food that I like must be banished "Till all the additional ounces have vanished. I won't have a cookie--not even a lick. I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick. I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie, I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry. I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore--- But isn't that what January is for? Unable to giggle, no longer a riot. Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet! -- Keystone Cop (http://keystonecop.net) |
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Barbie & Ken 1999 Letter To Santa: Barbie's 1999 Letter To Santa: Dear Santa, Listen you fat troll, I've been saving your ass every year, being the perfect Christmas Present, wearing skimpy bathing suits in December and dressing in fake Chanel at sappy tea parties. I hate to break it to ya', Santa, but it's payback time. There had better be some changes around here, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown, and trust me, you don't wanna be around to smell it. These are my demands for Christmas 1999: 1. Sweat pants and an oversized sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a hooker in hot pink bikinis. Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and Velcro up your butt? I don't suppose you do. 2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. That cheap-o molded underwear some genius at Mattel came up with look like cellulite! 3. A REAL man... I don't care if you have to go to Hasbro to get him, bring me GI JOE. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that pathetic bump of a boy-toy, Ken. And what was up with that earring anyway? …HULLO!?! 4. It's about time you made us all anatomically correct. Give me arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct. 5. Breast reduction surgery. 'Nuff said. 6. A jog-bra. To wear until I get the surgery. 7. A new career. Pet doctor, school teacher and make real money. 8. A new, more 90s, persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie," complete with a pint of cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips. 9. No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl complexion. 10. Mattel stock options. It's been 40 years - I think I deserve a piece of the action. Considering my valuable contribution to society and Mattel. I think these demands are reasonable. If you don't like it, you can find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas. It's that simple. Yours truly, Barbie Ken's 1999 Letter To Santa: Dear Santa, It has come to my attention that one of my colleagues has petitioned you for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and career changes. In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging remarks were made about me, my sexuality, and some of my fashion choices. I would like to take this opportunity to inform you of issues concerning Ms. Barbie, as well as some of my own needs and desires: First, I, along with several of my colleagues, feel Ms. Barbie DOES NOT deserve the preferential treatment she has received over the years. That bitch has everything. Neither I, nor Joe, Jem, nor The Raggedys, Ann & Andy, have dream houses, Corvettes, dune buggies, evening gowns, and some of us do not even have the ability to change our hairstyle. I have had a limited wardrobe, obviously designed to complement but never upstage Ms. Barbie. My decision to accessorize with an earring was immediately quashed, which I protest, for it was my decision and reflects my lifestyle choice. I would like a change in my career to further explore my creative nature. Some options which could be considered are "Decorator Ken," "Beauty Salon Ken," or "Broadway Ken." Other avenues which could be considered are: "Go-Go Ken," "Impersonator Ken" (with wigs and gowns), or "West Hollywood Ken." These would more accurately reflect my interests and, I believe, open up markets that have been under-served. As for Ms. Barbie needing bendable arms so she can "push me away", I need bendable knees so I can kick the bitch to the curb. Bendable knees would also be helpful in other situations of which you are aware. In closing, further concessions to the Blonde Bimbo from Hell, while the needs of others within my coalition are ignored, will result in legal action to be taken by myself and others. And kindly tell Ms. Barbie she can forget about G.I. Joe...He's Mine!!! … at least that's what he said last night. Sincerely, Ken -- Keystone Cop (http://keystonecop.net) |
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Biker Santa Biker Santa There will be a new sight on Christmas Eve, Stay up and watch...it's hard to believe!!!!!! Santa gave-up his sleigh full of loot, Fired his reindeer, and burned his red suit! He got rid of his elves and called Master Charge, Now he has an account, and boy is it large! He'll be buying all gifts for the rest of his years, Your stuff will say "K-Mart ," "J.C.Penney's," or "Sears!" He'd gotten a little behind the whole nation With home-made toys and deer for transportation. So forget feeding Rudolph, don't lay out the barley, 'Cause this year Santa rolls up on his brand new Harley! He's a biker now ,and it's a whole new racket, It says "Bad Ass Santa" on his black leather jacket. Mrs Clause is now his "Ol' Lady," They've got spikes on their helmets, And they look kinda shady! He's got a "chopper" with a "sissy bar," And his ol' lady now has a side car. He's really hip as he cruises around, With his "boom box" blastin, "Santa really gets down!" He's poppin' "wheelies" and stopping on dimes, Glad that he's finally caught up with the times. So, sit by your window, it's something you'll like, This modern day,Santa's on a shiny chrome bike! And you'll hear him exclaim as he rides out of sight, "MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!!!!! THIS SHIT'S ALLLLLLRIGHT!" -- Keystone Cop (http://keystonecop.net) |
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Christmas Carols For The Psychiatrically Challenged Christmas carols for the psychiatrically challenged SCHIZOPHRENIA: Do you Hear What I Hear? MULTIPLE PERSONALITY DISORDER: We Three Queens Disoriented Are DEMENTIA: I Think I'll Be Home for Christmas NARCISSISTIC: Hark the Herald Angels Sing About Me MANIC: Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Buses and Trucks and Trees and Fire Hydrants and... PARANOID: Santa Claus is Coming to Get Me. PERSONALITY DISORDER: You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll tell you Why. DEPRESSION: Silent Anhedonia, Holy Anhedonia, All is Flat, All is Lonely. OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE DISORDER: Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, JingleBell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock............(better start again) PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE PERSONALITY: On the First Day of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me (and then took it all away). BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER: Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire. -- Keystone Cop (http://keystonecop.net) |
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Christmas Humor Christmas Humor In a small Southern town there was a "Nativity Scene" that showed great skill and talent had gone into creating it. One small feature bothered me. The three wise men were wearing firemen's helmets. Totally unable to come up with a reason or explanation, I left. At a "Quik Stop" on the edge of town, I asked the lady behind the counter about the helmets. She exploded into a rage, yelling at me, "You darn Yankees never do read the Bible!" I assured her that I did, but simply couldn't recall anything about firemen in the Bible. She jerked her Bible from behind the counter and ruffled thru some pages, and finally jabbed her finger at a passage. Sticking it in my face she said, "See, it says right here, 'The three wise man came from afar.'" -- Keystone Cop (http://keystonecop.net) |
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Christmas Party Memorandum Christmas Party MEMORANDUM MEMORANDUM FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director RE: Christmas Party DATE: December 1 I'm happy to inform you that the company Christmas Party will take place on December 23, starting at noon in the banquet room at Luigi's Open Pit Barbecue. No-host bar, but plenty of eggnog! We'll have a small band playing traditional carols. Feel free to sing along, and don't be surprised if our CEO shows up dressed as Santa Claus! = = = = = = = = = FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director DATE: December 2 RE: Christmas Party In no way was yesterday's memo intended to exclude our Jewish employees. We recognize that Chanukah is an important holiday which often coincides with Christmas, though unfortunately not this year. However, from now on we're calling it our "Holiday Party". The same policy applies to employees who are celebrating Kwanza at this time. Happy now? = = = = = = = = = FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director DATE: December 3 RE: Holiday Party Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous requesting a non-drinking table, you didn't sign your name. I'm happy to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table that reads, "AA Only", you wouldn't be anonymous anymore. How am I supposed to handle this? Somebody? = = = = = = = = = FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director DATE: December 7 RE: Holiday Party What a diverse company we are! I had no idea that December 20 begins the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which forbids eating, drinking and sex during daylight hours. There goes the party! Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon this time of year does not accommodate our Muslim employees' beliefs. Perhaps Luigi's can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the party - the days are so short this time of year, or else package everything for take-home in little foil swans. Will that work? Meanwhile, I've arranged for members of Overeaters Anonymous to sit farthest from the dessert buffet and pregnant women will get the table closest to the restrooms. Did I miss anything? = = = = = = = = = FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director DATE: December 8 RE: Holiday Party So December 22 marks the Winter Solstice. What do you expect me to do, a tap-dance on your heads? Fire regulations at Luigi's prohibit the burning of sage by our "earth-based Goddess-worshiping" employees, but we'll try to accommodate your shamanic drumming circle during the band's breaks. Okay??? = = = = = = = = = FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director Date: December 9 RE: Holiday Party People, people, nothing sinister was intended by having our CEO dress up like Santa Claus! Even if the anagram of "Santa" does happen to be "Satan", there is no evil connotation to our own "little man in a red suit". It's a tradition, folks, like sugar shock at Halloween or family feuds over the Thanksgiving turkey or broken hearts on Valentine's Day. Could we lighten up? = = = = = = = = = FROM: Pat Lewis, Human Resources Director DATE: December 10 RE: Holiday Party Vegetarians!?!?!? I've had it with you people!!! We're going to keep this party at Luigi's Open Pit Barbecue whether you like it or not, so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill of death", as you so quaintly put it, and you'll get your #$%^&*! Salad bar, including hydroponic tomatoes. But you know, they have feelings, too. Tomatoes scream when you slice them. I've heard them scream. I'm hearing them scream right now! = = = = = = = = = FROM: Teri Bishops, Acting Human Resources Director DATE: December 14 RE: Pat Lewis and Holiday Party I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing Pat Lewis a speedy recovery from his stress-related illness and I'll continue to forward your cards to him at the sanatorium. In the meantime, management has decided to cancel our Holiday Party and give everyone the afternoon of the 23rd off with full pay. -- Keystone Cop (http://keystonecop.net) |
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Christmas Poem CHRISTMAS POEM 'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, HE LIVED ALL ALONE, IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE. I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE, AND TO SEE JUST WHO IN THIS HOME DID LIVE. I LOOKED ALL ABOUT, A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE, NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS, NOT EVEN A TREE. NO STOCKING BY MANTLE, JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND, ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES OF FAR DISTANT LANDS. WITH MEDALS AND BADGES, AWARDS OF ALL KINDS, A SOBER THOUGHT CAME THROUGH MY MIND. FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT, IT WAS DARK AND DREARY, I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER, ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY. THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING, SILENT, ALONE, CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME. THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE, THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER, NOT HOW I PICTURED A UNITED STATES SOLDIER. WAS THIS THE HERO OF WHOM I'D JUST READ? CURLED UP ON A PONCHO, THE FLOOR FOR A BED? I REALIZED THE FAMILIES THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT, OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT. SOON ROUND THE WORLD, THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY, AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY. THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR, BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS, LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE. I COULDN'T HELP WONDER HOW MANY LAY ALONE, ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME. THE VERY THOUGHT BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE, I DROPPED TO MY KNEES AND STARTED TO CRY. THE SOLDIER AWAKENED AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE, "SANTA DON'T CRY, THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE; I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM, I DON'T ASK FOR MORE, MY LIFE IS MY GOD, MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS." THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP, I COULDN'T CONTROL IT, I CONTINUED TO WEEP. I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS, SO SILENT AND STILL AND WE BOTH SHIVERED FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL. I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT, THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR SO WILLING TO FIGHT. THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER, WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE, WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA, IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE." ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH, AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT. "MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT." This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan. The following is his request. I think it is reasonable..... PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S. service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us. Please, do your small part to plant this small seed. Travel Safe Do Well Be Proud gpo -- Keystone Cop (http://keystonecop.net) |
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Christmas Slippers It Was Only Five Days Before Christmas Christmas Slippers It was only five days before Christmas. The spirit of the season hadn't yet caught up with me, even though cars packed the parking lot of our Houston area Target Shopping Center. Inside the store, it was worse. Shopping carts and last minute shoppers jammed the aisles. "Why did I come today?", I wondered. My feet ached almost as much as my head. My list contained names of several people who claimed they wanted nothing but I knew their feelings would be hurt if I didn't buy them anything. Buying for someone who had everything and deploring the high cost of items, I considered gift-buying anything but fun. Hurriedly, I filled my shopping cart with last minute items and proceeded to the long checkout lines. I picked the shortest but it looked as if it would mean at least a 20 minute wait. In front of me were two small children - a boy of about 10 and a younger girl about 5. The boy wore a ragged coat. Enormously large, tattered tennis shoes jutted far out in front of his much too short jeans. He clutched several crumpled dollar bills in his grimy hands. The girl's clothing resembled her brother's. Her head was a matted mass of curly hair. Reminders of an evening meal showed on her small face. She carried a beautiful pair of shiny, gold house slippers. As the Christmas music sounded in the store's stereo system, the girl hummed along off-key but happily. When we finally approached the checkout register, the girl carefully placed the shoes on the counter. She treated them as though they were a treasure. The clerk rang up the bill. "That will be $6.09," she said. The boy laid his crumpled dollars atop the stand while he searched his pockets. He finally came up with $3.12. "I guess we will have to put them back," he bravely said. "We will come back some other time, maybe tomorrow." With that statement, a soft sob broke from the little girl. "But Jesus would have loved these shoes," she cried. "Well, we'll go home and work some more. Don't cry. We'll come back," he said. Quickly I handed $3.00 to the cashier. These children had waited in line for a long time. And, after all, it was Christmas. Suddenly a pair of arms came around me and a small voice said, "Thank you, Sir." "What did you mean when you said Jesus would like the shoes?" I asked. The small boy answered, "Our mommy is sick and going to heaven. Daddy said she might go before Christmas to be with Jesus." The girl spoke, "My Sunday School teacher said the streets in heaven are shiny gold, just like these shoes. Won't mommy be beautiful walking on those streets to match these shoes?" My eyes flooded as I looked into her tear streaked face. "Yes," I answered, "I am sure she will." Silently I thanked God for using these children to remind me of the true spirit of giving. Christmas is not about the amount of money paid, nor the amount of gifts purchased, nor trying to impress friends and relatives. Christmas is about the love in your heart to share with those as Jesus Christ has shared with each of us. Christmas is about the Birth of Jesus whom God sent to show the world how much He really loves us. Happy and Holy Days to you all. -- Keystone Cop (http://keystonecop.net) |
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Christmas With Louise Christmas with Louise As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty and grew increasingly threadbare. One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and a fake beard and went in search of an inflatable love doll. Of course, they don't sell those things at Wal-mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself. I was there almost three hours saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're kidding me!" "Who owns that?" "Do you have their phone number?" Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll suitable for a night of romance that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour. I'm not sure what a complicated doll is. Perhaps one that is subject to wild mood shifts and using a French accent for no reason at all. (That also describes a few ex-girlfriends.) Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I figured the "vibro-motion" was a feature Jay could live without, so I settled for Lovable Louise. She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call Louise a "doll" took a huge leap of imagination. On Christmas Eve, with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and cleverly left the front door key hidden under the mat. In the wee morning hours, long after Santa had come and gone, I snuck into the house and filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. Then I let myself out, went home, and giggled for a couple of hours. The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the dog confused. He would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more. I suggested he purchase an inflatable Lassie to set Rover straight. We also agreed that Louise should remain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner. It seemed like a great idea, except that we forgot that Grandma and Grandpa would be there. My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. "What the hell is that?" she asked. My brother quickly explained, "It's a doll." "Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped. I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. "Where are her clothes?" Granny continued. I hadn't seen any in the box, but I kept this information to myself. "Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran," Jay said, trying to steer her into the dining room. But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?" Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny, Hang on!" My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, " Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home. The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa. The cat screamed, I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth to mouth resuscitation. My brother wet his pants and Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car. It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember. Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health. Louise went on to star in several bachelor party movies. I think Grandpa still calls her whenever he can get out of the house. -- Keystone Cop (http://keystonecop.net) |
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Coming Holidays Coming Holidays An elderly man in Phoenix calls his son in New York and says, "I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is enough." "Pop, what are you talking about?" the son screams. "We can't stand the sight of each other any longer," the old man says. "We're sick of each other, and I'm sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Chicago and tell her," and he hangs up. Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone."Like hell they're getting divorced," she shouts, "I'll take care of this." She calls Phoenix immediately, and screams at the old man, "You are NOT getting divorced. Don't do a single thing until I get there. I'm calling my brother back, and we'll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don't do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?" and hangs up. The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. "Okay," he says, "they're coming for Thanksgiving. Now what do we tell them for Christmas?" -- Keystone Cop (http://keystonecop.net) |
