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KeithnRita

Add your Christmas joke here

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Three men died on Christmas Eve and were met by Saint Peter at the pearly gates. "In honor of this holy season," Saint Peter said, "you must each possess something that symbolizes Christmas to get into heaven."

The first man fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a lighter. He flicked it on. It represents a candle, he said.

You may pass through the pearly gates Saint Peter said.

The second man reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He shook them and said, "They're bells".

Saint Peter said you may pass through the pearly gates.

The third man started searching desperately through his pockets and finally pulled out a pair of women's panties. St. Peter looked at the man with a raised eyebrow and asked, "And just what do those symbolize?"

The man replied, "They're Carols".

Even God Enjoys A Good Laugh

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Ten reasons a Christmas tree is better than a woman:

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1. A Christmas tree doesn't care how many other Christmas

trees you have had in the past.

2. Christmas trees don't get mad if you use exotic electrical

devices.

3. A Christmas tree doesn't care if you have an artificial one

in the closet.

4. You can feel a Christmas tree before you take it home.

5. A Christmas tree doesn't get mad if you look up underneath it.

6. When you are done with a Christmas tree, you can throw it

on the curb and have it hauled away.

7. A Christmas tree doesn't get jealous around other Christmas

trees.

8. A Christmas tree doesn't care if you watch football all day.

9. A Christmas tree doesn't get mad if you tie it up and throw it

in the back of your pickup truck.

10. A Christmas tree doesn’t talk back.

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Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house I searched for the tools to hand to my spouse

Instructions were studied and we were inspired, in hopes we could manage "Some Assembly Required."

The children were quiet (not asleep) in their beds, while Dad and I faced the evening with dread:

a kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's town house to boot! And, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!

We opened the boxes, my heart skipped a beat- let no parts be missing or parts incomplete!

Too late for last-minute returns or replacement; if we can't get it right, it goes in the basement!

When what to my worrying eyes should appear but 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,

with each part numbered and every slot named, so if we failed, only we could be blamed.

More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out, all over the carpet they were scattered about.

Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there! Slide on the seats, and staple the stair!

Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand. "Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand."

And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact that all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact

to keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night with "assembly required" till morning's first light.

We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work, till our eyes, they went bleary; our fingers all hurt.

The coffee went cold and the night, it wore thin before we attached the last rod and last pin.

Then laying the tools away in the chest, we fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.

But I said to my husband just before I passed out, "This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.

Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring, and not have to run to the store for a thing!

We did it! We did it! The toys are all set for the perfect, most perfect, Christmas, I bet!"

Then off to dreamland and sweet repose I gratefully went, though I suppose

there's something to say for those self-deluded- I'd forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!

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THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

(BROOKLYN STYLE)

'Twas the night before Christmas, Da whole house was mella,

Not a creature was stirrin', Cuz I had a gun unda da pilla.

When up on da roof I heard somethin' pound, I sprung to da

window, To scream, "YO! Keep it down!"

When what to my Wanderin' eyes should appear, But da Don of

all elfs, And eight friggin' reindeer!

Wit' slicked back black hair, And a silk red suit, don

Christopher wuz here, And he brought da loot!

Wit' a slap to dare snouts, And a yank on dare manes, He

cursed and he shouted, And he called dem by name.

"Yo Tony, Yo Frankie, Yo Vinny, Yo Vito, Ay Joey, Ay Paulie,

Ay Pepe, Ay Guido!"

As I drew out my gun And hid by da bed, He flew troo da

winda And slapped me 'side da head.

"What da hell you doin' Pullin' a gun on da Don? Now all

you're gettin' is coal, You friggin' moron!"

Den pointin' a fat finga Right unda my nose, He twisted his

pinky ring, And up da chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, Obscenities screamin', Away dey all

flew, Before he troo dem a beatin'.

Den I heard him yell out, What I did least expect, "Merry

Friggin' Christmas to all, And yous better show some

respect!"

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