JokesArcade

What do you call a man who claps his hands at Christmas time?
Santapplause.

10. The hours, the weather and the trend toward smaller chimneys.

9. Nike won’t give him a lucrative side-contract.

8. Reindeer and elves have unionized.

7. New tax on flying sleighs.

6. Sleigh fuel has gone through the roof.

5. Needs extra cash to cover off-season gambling losses.

4. New air traffic controllers.

3. Cost of living increase at the North Pole.

2. Children don’t leave as many cookies as they used to.

1. Mrs. Clause told him to.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat
The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat
The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook
It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.

Momma in her teddy, and I in the nude
Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube
When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,
That I lost my boner and poor momma went dry.

Up to the window I sprang like an elf,
Tore back the shade while she played with herself.
The moon on the crest of the snowman we’d built,
Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.
With a fat little driver, half out of his sled,
A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head.

Sure as I’m speaking, he was as high as a kite.
And he yelled to his team, but it didn’t sound right.
Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz,
Either slow down this rig or I’ll cut off your nuts.

Look out for the lamp post, and don’t hit the tree,
Quit shaking the sleigh, ’cause I gotta go pee.
They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,
Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard such a clatter,
As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.
I was donning my jacket to cover my ass,
When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.

His suit was all smelly with perfume galore,
He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore.
“That was some brothel,” he said with a smile,
“The reindeer are pooped, and I’ll just stay here awhile.

He walked to the kitchen, himself poured a drink,
Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.
I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee,
The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,
But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.
The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,
The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.

A box filled with condoms was Santa’s next find,
And a six pair of panties, the edible kind.
A bra without nipples, a penis extension,
And several other things that I shouldn’t even mention.

A cock ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,
A dildo so long, it lay in a coil.
“This stuff ain’t for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit,
So I’ll leave ‘em here, and then I’ll just split.”

He filled every stocking and then took his leave,
With one tiny butt plug tucked under his sleeve.
He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,
Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.

In time he was seated, took the reins of his hitch,
Saying, “Take me home Rudolph, this night’s been a bitch!”
The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,
“The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!”

Schizophrenia – Do You Hear What I Hear?

Multiple Personality Disorder – We Three Kings 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…

Dear Darling Son (and That Person You Married),

Merry Christmas to you, and please don’t worry. I’m just fine considering I can’t breathe or eat. The important thing is that you have a nice holiday, thousands of miles away from your ailing mother. I’ve sent along my last ten dollars in this card, which I hope you’ll spend on my grandchildren. God knows their mother never buys them anything nice. They look so thin in their pictures, poor babies.

Thank you so much for the Christmas flowers, dear boy. I put them in the freezer so they’ll stay fresh for my grave. Which reminds me — we buried Grandma last week. I know she died years ago, but I got to yearning for a good funeral so Aunt Viola and I dug her up and had the services all over again. I would have invited you, but I know that woman you live with would have never let you come.

Well son, it’s time for me to crawl off to bed now. I lost my cane beating off muggers last week, but don’t you worry about me. I’m also getting used to the cold since they turned my heat off and am grateful because the frost on my bed numbs the constant pain. Now don’t you even think about sending any more money, because I know you need it for those expensive family vacations you take every year. Give my love to my darling grandbabies and my regards to whatever-her-name-is — the one with the black roots who stole you screaming from my bosom.

Merry Christmas.

Love, Mom

Wat did the burglar get after nickin a calender?
He got 12 months!

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