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Showing posts from December, 2016

Billy, The Shop Boy

It's been 40 years now.  I was a senior at Dudley High School. Around the corner almost, on Banner Avenue was a machine shop. I don't remember the name or if it's still there. I had just been wrongly fired from my job as a 17 year old school bus driver as was common in North Carolina back then (our safety record still stands better than adult drivers today) when I took the after school job of cleaning the shop and emptying the 55 gallon drums of garbage and metal turnings into the dumpsters outside.

They promised me if I did a good job they would teach me the trade. As I'd already spent some summers in machine shops it looked to be a good fit.

On Monday when I came in, each drum of metal turnings was no more than half filled. The turnings, sometimes aluminum and sometimes steel, or brass,  mostly came from the machining of parts on lathes. They were soaked in cutting oils designed to cool the cutting tools and prevent tools from dulling and breaking. And …

Skunk Weed? Who Knew?

Skunk Weed
When I was a much younger lad skunk weed was the best we had. It wasn't great but it would do-- instead of one, we'd smoke two (or more) but now skunk's the very best-- at least, that's what the young attest. Who manipulates the words today to leave me in a smoky haze of vocabulary?

Economic Recovery Explained

Mommy: "Kids, there will be no recovery until we've hit bottom."

Kids: "Are we there yet, Mommy?"

Mommy: "Why don't we try counting cows? And this time, let's do it quietly so Daddy doesn't drive the car off another cliff."

Daddy: "Who's Cliff?"

History Of Wackemall: Part 59, Archbishop Dom Hélder Pessoa Câmara

Dom Hélder Pessoa Câmara  (1909-1999) was  a Brazilian Roman Catholic Archbishop, serving from 1964 to 1985, during the military regime of the country. He was known as Brazil's Archbishop of the poor.

An advocate of liberation theology, Dom Pessoa Câmara  is remembered for his social and political work for the poor and Human Rights and democracy.  Dom Câmara preached for a church closer to poor people and for non-violence. He is quoted as having said,

“When I feed the poor they call me a saint. When I ask why so many people are poor they call me wackemall.”
Main stream media outlets including the Catholic media, seeking to make his language more acceptable to the public, changed his quote to:

"When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why they are poor, they call me a communist."
On March 30,2015 the Catholic Herald announced "Vatican ‘approves request’ to open the Cause of Dom Hélder Câmara."

We here at Wackemall.com can only hope the Vatica…

Delighfully Delicious Fast Pickle Poetry

Pickles

Pickles here, pickles there,
pickles, pickles everywhere,
pickles hot and pickles sweet,
pickles are the best of treats.
I eat pickles everyday.
Pickles help me rhyme this way.
Pickles, yes they’re good for you,
they’re vegetables you love to chew!

Pickles crunch and pickles munch,
pickles are a must for lunch.
Pickles sour and pickles cool,
I take pickles to my school
then come supper-time, you bet.
Pickles are the best food yet!
Pickles come without a care,
pickles here, pickles there.

Anyone want a pickle?

Who Taught You How To Park?

No Foul Language Please

No need to complain,
I can't hear a word.
That cussing and swearing
goes on quite unheard.
Just put in your money
and keep your mouth shut.
Might be I can't hear you
but I get my cut.


Today's Parking Meter Poem has been made possible by polite parking meters everywhere.

Somethimes You Just Have To Turn And Run

Ever seen a hyperlink poem before? There's lots of them here at Wackemall.com as they write themselves. Problem is, because of link rot they have a finite shelf life. Anyway, the links aren't advertisements and are in-fact links to pictures or other things that inspired the poem and make it more entertaining.

Hard Run

He stared at me with an evil grin
and plotted my demise. A dinosaur, it followed me
and rushed straight to my eyes
I feared she'd be the death of me,
too much for mortal men.
So I ran as fast as I could go
until I reached the end.



Hey, what can I say, it keeps me busy for a while.

When Winners Become Losers

Refused Ball

You thought there was a cure for me.
You thought I might expire.
You hoped I'd simply go away,
give up, give out, retire.
But in the end I beat you all.
I lived to see you fall
for sometimes winning's little more
than giving up the ball.

Accountants Or?

They have funny accounting in DC, funny accounting at the state level and funny accounting at the local level... Are government accountants all a bunch of comedians in drag?

If I Could Save Time

Time

Time in a bottle,
time just the same.
Time in relativity
is time on the brain.
Time lost to history
is time we forget.
Time to fill spaces
and not with regrets.

Fast Food Fascist?

Washington DC-- It was announced today that Little Caesar has brought an end to the Fast Food War by taking control of the entire world.

Fast Food God

Little Caesar eyed the world,
"Someday this will be mine.
Friends, Romans, countrymen:
I'm Caesar, I'm divine.
Summon the King, summon the Clown,
summon Wendy too.
Tell them, report right away
or their fast food days are through.

Tell them I've got killer bread sticks
and a different world view too.
Tell them I'm a god
of fast food and faster roux.
Tell them I'll leave them all awash,
there's nothing I won't do
to pizza, pizza them to death--
their fortunes, I'll accrue.

Was it Little Caesar who destroyed Biscuitville with weapons of mass distraction? Is that how he seized control of the fast food empires? Are bread sticks really deadly? Is this really the end of the war or just another devastating chapter filled with salt, fat, cholesterol and artificial flavors?

Get the latest up to date coverage at W…

Things I Found On The Web Today, Part 4

Elite London Escorts
are pretty to look at
but where will they lead you?

Swwisnews has lesbian dating,
flowers and the University of Louisiana at Monroe
but no news of the Swiss. Or the Swwis.

Irish transgender people may be forced to divorce
to gain gender recognition...
So they can marry straights?

The professional body of chemists
 in the oil and chemical coatings industry
has changed the Constitution?

SpyCentre Security
has a retail division.
Finally, Jethro Bodine can be a double knot spy.

Japan Vehicle Co., Ltd
had to replace their address.
With what?

Half Ass Acres
has a donkey purchase plan
to sell half an ass?

The Peru Public Library
is proud to serve Illinois
if you can get to Peru before they close.


Please continue reading Things I Found On The Web Today, Part 5

About Those Guys You Put In Charge

Meanwhile, Behind The Curtain

Under the rocks, the vermin hide
waiting for you to be their guides
to show them in, to show them 'round
'til the day, it comes, they drag you down
under the rocks...

First written over a decade ago. Was I peering into the future or are we simply repeating our past?

Adventures On Poetic Seas

Whale Watching

When things get sticky, just call me
and I'll come driving by
to zero in and take a shot
if you think you'd like to try.
We'll tie the knot come April. A woody you'll soon know. And we'll be off to sail the world
and watch the great whales blow!

Afterdaze

The grand-kids are gone.
The place is a mess
with paper and bows--
someone left her dress.
Your foot is still throbbing
from the toy you stepped on.
The cupboards all bare,
your coffee all gone.

Your spouse is still snoring
so loud you can't think,
as you try to remember
how much did you drink?
Your stomach is churning--
of that you're not proud
as you survey the ruins
of your Christmas crowd.

You think, roll another,
but they smoked all your stash,
and you can't buy no more
'cause you're all out of cash.
You think, BC powder,
'cause that's worked before
but they all got snorted
by the coke head next door.

The New Year is coming
and you're out of beer.
How will you survive
their coming back here?
Your hog's in the basement.
How'd that get down there?
And how will you ever
ride it back up the stairs?

History Of Wackemall: Part 58, George Orwell

You knew him as the author of the best selling novel, Nineteen Eighty-Four (published in 1949) in which George Orwell hauntingly and correctly predicted the future of the world. But when asked about voting, George Orwell said,

“A people that elect corrupt politicians, imposters, thieves and traitors are not victims... but wackemall, completely wackemall!”
The English author, Eric Arthur Blair, was born on 25 June 1903, and known to the world as George Orwell. As a British imperial policeman stationed in Burma he saw full well the utter devastation British Imperialism had left behind. Later, while living in London, he immersed himself with the poor and later did the same in Paris.

George Orwell knew how crazy, how wacked the voters had become long before he penned his most famous novel and though known to only a few, became a part of  The History of Wackemall.
Please continue reading History Of Wackemall: Part 59, Archbishop Dom Hélder Pessoa Câmara

The Weary Traveler

Behold the weary traveler
as he trudges down your street:
would you take him in, feed him,
or tend his swollen feet?
It might be he’s a long-lost friend,
a brother once forgot.
A traveler trudges down your street,
could he be a king or not?

Behold the weary traveler,
could he be a king or not?

Silent Night

As carolers sing out Silent Night,
I wait to hear your voice.
I didn’t want to come to this
but now I have no choice.
I didn’t want to fall in love;
my life to complicate,
so now I sit and think about
why is it I can’t wait?

I dream of you both day and night;
to me there are no more.
It’s you I want to share my heart
though I can’t say what for.
My life was fine, or so I thought,
before you came along,
but now I don’t know what I’d do
if suddenly you were gone.

So as the days count slowly down
‘til Christmas Day is here
I think of all that we could be,
and admit I do still fear
the thought that things might not work out,
but still I’ll not loose sight
of how I yearn to be with you
as carolers... sing Silent Night.

Written long ago for someone I'd hoped to spend many a Christmas Eve with. Merry Christmas wherever you are.

You Better Watch Out...

Santa Claus ain't coming.
He forgot to pay his bill.
They're keeping him in debtors' prison
against the reindeers' wills.
The elves are all in tatters
'cause none have learned to fly
and Santa will remain in jail
until the day he dies.

A Letter From Santa

Hey, check this out, I got a letter from Santa, let's see what it says:


"Dear Billy,
I'm very happy that you've decided to help me again this year. Last year your Wackemall.com Christmas Holidaze Celebration or whatever you're calling it this year, was great and I'm very pleased that you are still doing it all these many years in a row. Make sure you keep adding new stuff and I'm sure I'll like it even more.

I do have some concerns though. For starters, I think you're too old to play with baby dolls even if the dolls you want are over 21 years old. Could it be you are a collector? We'll have to get some verification-- perhaps a letter from your mother-- to make sure it's okay for you to play with baby dolls.

The second thing on your list was a Street Plane. Currently the North Pole Workshops have yet to build any Street Planes and my engineer elves tell me they would need at least two years of R&D plus product development time…

Squirrel Christmas

Why don't squirrels have Christmas
and decorate their trees
with strings of flashing fireflies--
their nuts hung in the breeze?
With holly berries strewn about
and mistletoe all can see?
Why don't squirrels have Christmas
just like you and me?

A Bum's Holiday Rush

Excuse me, Bum, want a sugar plum
or a candied fig for free?
I've kept them wrapped since '69--
they were Christmas gifts you see.
I thought that I should pass them on
to one with less than me.

Excuse me, Bum, no need to run
I'll let you have the sack.
Oh sure, I'm sure they're still quite good
though the color's gone to black.
I tried to return them to the store
but they wouldn't take them back.

Excuse me, Bum, where I come from
folks are glad for what they get.
Sure, they're just a little old
but they haven't molded yet.
I'd eat 'em if I were hungry
but hungry I don't get.

Excuse me, Bum, why punch me in the mouth?

Ho Ho Ho And Mistletoe

Ho, ho, ho, there’s mistletoe and lights upon the tree.
Santa’s comin’ ‘round real soon with presents just for me.
There’s pretty lights, chocolate bites; my stocking’s bulging full.
Sissy wants a bracelet, Daddy wants a tool.

Brother gets a video game, me, I get a bike.
Sissy wants a frilly dress to impress a boy she likes.
Mommy wants a pair of shoes and maybe a new car.
Daddy says, “Don’t ask for much and wish upon a star.”

Ho, ho, ho, there’s mistletoe, my favorite time of year.
I thought that it might never come, took forever to get here.
Santa’s coming back real soon ‘cause I’ve been good, you see.
It’s Christmas time and Santa’s putting presents ‘neath our tree.

Ho, ho, ho, it’s mistletoe, my favorite time of year.
Santa says he’s coming soon, I hope the weather’s clear.
Rudolph’s lighting up the night, I think I see the glow.
Soon, I’ll hear ol’ Santa laugh, “Ho, ho, ho, there’s mistletoe.”

Paw-paw, The Christmas Bear

Paw-paw was a polar bear,
lived near that old North Pole,
with great big teeth, great big claws,
and fur as white as snow:
and every year come Christmas time,
Paw-paw, he would say,
“Santa, can I ride with you
next time you fly your sleigh?”

“Ho, ho, ho,” said Santa,
“I just can’t see a way
with all the presents loaded on
you’d weigh down the sleigh.
The reindeer couldn’t pull us both,
you’re much too big, you see.
I think we’d be much better off
if you helped with the tree.”

So every year, come Christmas time,
as Santa flew away
Paw-paw helped to place the tree
and dreamed he’d fly the sleigh;
and every year come Christmas time,
Paw-paw, he would say,
“Santa, can I ride with you
next time you fly your sleigh?”

“Ho, ho, ho,” said Santa,
“I just can’t see a way
with all the presents loaded on
you’d weigh down the sleigh.
The reindeer couldn’t pull us both,
you’re much too big, you see.
I think we’d be much better off
if you helped with the tree.”

Paw-paw said, “I’ll get in shape.
I’ll …

Grandma’s Christmas Tree

There’s pretty bows and no one knows
what’s hidden in each box.
We look to see, to set them free,
these presents who are locked
‘neath pretty papers sealed with tape
and ribbons wrapped so tight.
And so it is, ‘round Grandma’s tree
we gather ‘round tonight.

Each tiny light, and little bell,
each angel with her wings,
each shiny ball, and tiny elf,
they’re all our Grandma’s things.
And every piece is hung with care
as only Grandma can.
A lifetime spent collecting,
each one part of her plan.

And ‘round the room all is in bloom
with Christmas everywhere.
Each wall and window, table too,
and each and every chair.
It’s Christmas time at Grandma’s house;
no place I’d rather be
than gathered ‘round to celebrate
‘neath Grandma’s Christmas tree.

Sounds Of Silent Night

When tattered leaves, no more shall fall,
and evergreens do not grow tall,
jingle bells, no more they ring,
and carolers, no more will sing,
will Christmas spirits turn to die
as the old folks scream and children cry,
and will the rush be but a crawl
when tattered leaves, no more shall fall?

Will Silent Night be just a sound
of friends who never come around;
will Christmas lights, red, gold, and green
be all that’s left to fill our dreams?
Will passions die, hopes not grow
as we all serve those in the know,
and when the snow, it dusts the ground,
will Silent Night be just a sound?

T'was the night before Christmas

A guest submission by Paul Resh

T'was the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Nothing was stirring, not even my spouse
When down in the den there came a big crash
It was old Saint Nick, he was looking for cash

 I snuck down the stairs to have me a peek
Watching in silence at the old sneak
He shook one package and then another
"Well, this will be good for Sammy's big brother"

The small package it went right into the sack
As he took from my plate, another quick snack
Taking a swallow of some more of the eggnog
"Always the same drink I must post on my blog"

"Some Jack Daniels for a change, it would be fine
All this sweet stuff is making me look like a swine
Come to all of these houses hoping to score
But looking like this it don't happen no more"

No one ever really thinks about me
You know, sometimes, Santa's got to pee"
I stepped out and called him a big whiner
That's when he gave me the really nice shiner

Lying on…

Parking Meters Unhappy With Holidaze Decorating

Image
Why Not A New Hat Instead?

I know you love your holidaze,    
and me, I love them too.
I'm busiest this time of year,
downtown is like a zoo,
with lots of smiling faces
and hearts all filled with hope.
But these ribbons wrapped around my neck
are going to make me choke!

I can't breath!

Well there you have it folks, not everyone believes the Holidaze decorations were well thought out. The parking meter who sent us this Parking Meter Poem and photo from Daily Feed as a guest submission certainly didn't think so.

Stay tuned yo Wackemall Network News for the latest Holidaxe updates.

Down At The Santa-A-Go-Go

Santa’s at the Go-go playin’ with the pretty girls,
slippin’ tips in garters, gonna give ‘em all a whirl.
He’s pawning all the presents, gotta get himself a loan
‘cause Santa’s at the Go-go an’ he ain’t coming home.

The reindeer, they’re a waitin’ in the parking lot all night;
a ready and a willing, Rudolph’s nose a parking light.
The elves, they’re all a beggin’, “Santa, Dude, please come home
‘cause Miss Claus, she ain’t happy, she hates to sleep alone.”

There won’t be any Christmas, Santa’s way to drunk to drive.
The party’s goin’ on all night, the elves too drunk to try.
The girls are on the reindeer, a flyin’ ‘round the bar.
Santa bought a Go-go an’ he’s gonna be a star.

Yeah, Santa bought a Go-go, you ought to see him swing.
The girls, they all start dancing every time the big guy sings.
The dudes, they line up ‘round the block, a tryin’ to get in,
down at the Santa-A-Go-go, Christmas never ends.

Christmas Morning

I woke up Christmas morning,
walked through my house to see
there wasn’t any presents,
no candy, or a tree.
There wasn’t any fruitcake,
for that I gave thanks,
but my cookies had been eaten
and all my milk was drank.

Someone had took the mistletoe
so now I’ll not be kissed.
For Santa to have done these things
he must really have been pissed.
I thought that I had been so good.
It hurts down to my soul.
I looked into my stocking
and found but lumps of coal.

Now last night when I went to bed
the presents had been there.
The tree was standing pretty.
I didn’t have a care.
But now things are so different
and I just don’t have a clue.
I must of made him really mad
but just what did I do?

I looked inside my cabinet,
my liquor was all gone,
along with all the candy
and all my Christmas songs.
He even took the instruments,
the ones I cannot play.
I can’t remember feeling worse.
This can’t be Christmas day.

So I walked out into my yard
and my Christmas lights were gone.
The wise men and my Rudo…

Do Not Call

“Momma,” the little girl whispered, “that man looks like Santa.”

“Do you really think so?” the child’s mother asks as the two of then walk into the elevator I’m riding. “I think Santa’s older than him.”

“I think you might be right,” the little girl replies. “He doesn’t really look like Santa. But what if he is Santa?"

"But what about the dark patches on the side of his beard?" the woman asks, "Santa doesn't have dark patches."

"You're right," the little girl sighs, "He's not really Santa."

What? I don’t? I don’t look like Santa? I only smile at the woman and her little girl. What now? What do I do? What do I say?

I’m spared any more need for direct and immediate actions by the opening of the elevator doors to the first floor where I get off but that is far from the end of my dilemma.

I guess I could try to pass, shave my now graying beard and try to look like other middle-age men, but that still wouldn’t change who I am. Sur…

Wackemelves Go On Sale

Ramseur, NC-- In keeping with the long Holidaze tradition of presenting advertising as if it were really news, the staff here at Wackemall Network News presents the following Holidaze  report.

Are you tired of getting beat up by department store santas over the last DVR on the shelf at the big box retailer? Do you hurt from being bucked in the butt by reindeer while bending over to pick up wrapping paper off the bottom shelf. Are you sick of Christmas shopping and just not feeling the holidaze spirit anymore? Well it just so happens that Wackemall Industries, and boys in the white jackets down at the Wackemall Labs, makers of Wackemall Products have hit on yet another breakthrough to make your life easier.

By using an upgraded version of the technology used to make Barridogs, Barricats, Barricows and Barrigoats, the lab guys figured all they needed was to capture a few elves and implant the upgraded chips in the little green guys brains so that people everywhere can have thei…

Too Much Holidaze

Tired of Christmas TV?
Tired of Christmas songs
playing on the radio?
Tired of Christmas sing-a-longs?
Tired of red nosed reindeer
and tiny little elves.
Santa screamed, "I've had enough!"
and then he offed himself

with a candy cane straight through his heart.

Recession Holiday

Carolers sing out at the mall.
Bartender's shout out their last call.
The Christmas lights blink red and green
above the banned nativity scenes.

Christians scream, "It's about our Lord!"
Vendors shout, "It's about our board!"
Children cry, "It's about more toys,
ringing bells and making noise."

Mothers rush to buy the gifts
while fathers shout, "Enough of this,
you're spending all my hard earned pay
for another store bought holiday."

Troopers write more DWIs
while soldiers fight our wars and die.
Tax man shouts, "Will tax for food!"
while hookers laugh, "I'm in the mood."

Banksters asking for a loan
while trying to repossess our homes.
Free are those that caused it all
while carolers sing out at the mall.

Christmas Over Easy

Old Saint Nick and Humpty Dumpty
went looking for some chics.
Seems both had done without a while
and needed something quick.
But far and wide they looked about
only finding 2 great legs.
So Santa smiled and looked at her,
"How do you like your eggs?"

As he cracked Humpty into a bowl...

Santa's Magic Dust

Image
By Carol Newsome and Billy Jones



Santa Claus: "How'd you get my picture? I haven't come down your chimney lately."

Carol Newsome: "Like you, I can be everywhere..."

Santa Claus: "Hum... I must be missing some of my magic dust. Has Rudolph been hanging out on the corner again?"

Carol Newsome: "He is working some great deals, but he does ask if you are planning to use the dust for good. I promised that I would."

Santa Claus: "That little varmint! His heart is in the right place but he's so naive. He doesn't know you from Eve. Besides, if we run short I won't be able to get the sleigh off the ground. And with their new union contract I just signed, the elves get paid triple time to make magic dust in December. All this trouble because one little reindeer is trying to feed his addiction to pizza which I would be happy to buy him except that it makes him sick and gives him terrible gas. Have you ever been trapped in a…

Santa Went Down To Georgia

Santa went down to Georgia.
He was delivering presents there.
He was in a bind runnin’ way behind,
the reindeer gasped for air,
when he came across the devil
flyin’ in a new sled blazin’ hot,
and the devil jumped up on the runnin’ board,
said, “Santa, let me tell you what.

I guess you didn't know it
but I deliver presents too.
And if you'd care to take a dare,
I'll make a bet with you.
Now you been doing this for a while
but give the devil his due,
I’ll bet my sled an’ flyin’ pigs
‘cause I think I’m better than you.”

Ol’ Santa said, “Sometimes I’m called Saint Nichols
and it might be a sin, but I’ll take Your bet, you’re gonna regret
‘cause I’m the best that’s ever been.

Up on the roof top click, click. click.
Jingle Bells, Santa better be quick.
Down every chimney, “Ho, ho ho.”
Steal a kiss ‘neath the mistletoe.

The devil fired up his sled
and said, “I’ll start this show,”
and fire flashed from the harness
as he shouted, “Go pigs, Go!”
And as we watched there from below
i…

Christmas Without Borders

It has long been said that locks only keep out honest men. When one looks at the heavily patrolled border wall between Israel and Egypt which extends 50' into the ground but is tunneled under by thieves, terrorists, and smugglers most every day it looks as if the same can be said about walls.

So as we go into this holidaze season, think about the following: Why would we want to keep out the honest men, those with something to give us be it a good back, a warm hand or a genuine smile when they bid us Merry Christmas from the bottoms of their hearts?

Why build walls so only the bad get through? The bad are coming anyway, why not take the good with the bad?

And perhaps tunnels are the bigger threat:

"The tunnel war is one of the most important and most dangerous military tactics in the face of the Israeli army because it features a qualitative and strategic dimension, because of its human and moral effects, and because of its serious threat and unprecedented challenge to the Isr…

A Scrap Peddler's Christmas

They come in trucks and in cars; on foot.
In wheelchairs, on scooters they haul in their loot.
Scrap metals and plastics left waste on the ground
pulled out of trash cans by ounces and pounds.
They talk about Christmas and shopping for presents
but live hand to mouth like Medieval peasants.
Some sleep in the shelters, some sleep in trucks
and work long hard days for five or ten bucks.

Christmas Songs?

The ice-cream truck has been riding through my neighborhood in recent winters and last night I noticed it's playing Christmas songs once again. Anyway, I wrote a poem about it.

The ice-cream truck played Jingle Bells
and verses of Silent Night.
And when it played The Nutcracker Suite
it didn't seem quite right.
Here Comes Santa Claus rang the bells.
I can't get it out of my head.
An ice-cream truck on Christmas Eve
while sugar highs keep us from bed.

Frosty The Snowman

Frosty the Snowman melted.
That’s him there on the floor.
I guess that I should get a mop
and sop him up before
he makes a bigger mess
than he already has.
See if there’s a bucket here.
If not we’ll use that vaz. (vase)

I told the kids to keep him out;
it’s much too warm inside,
but they thought we should bring him in
where he’d be warm and dry.
Well warm he is, but dry he’s not;
seems now he’s even wetter.
Sometimes the best intentions
just aren’t any better.

So let this be a lesson
to all who hear these words:
sometime the cries of children
are better left unheard.
For children cannot understand
all that’s on their minds,
and snowmen have to stay outside
where it’s cold all the time.

So pick up all those lumps of coal,
that carrot and those sticks.
Get that hat up off the floor,
and that muffler, warm and thick.
Hang them up where they will dry
and dry those tear-filled eyes
for Frosty will come back next year
‘cause snowmen never die.

Yes, Frosty will come back next year
‘cause sno…

Jack T Mule

From time to time I post guest submissions. Today's guest writer is Jack T. Mule, author of the as yet, unpublished, Sweetfeed, The Autobiography Of Jack T. Mule. Jack is a lifelong friend and I'm sure you'll love his story even if you don't like mules.

How I Saved Christmas... Sorta
by Jack T. Mule



I’d just like to begin by saying hello to all my fans out there in the Internet. All four of you mean the world to me. What, you expect original jokes from a mule? Look, I’m one of the few talking mules and probably the world’s only blogging mule, there’s only so much I can do. Besides, who’s to say I don’t have four fans?

Anyway, since my lifelong friend and mentor, Billy Jones, encouraged me first to become a writer and now to be his featured guest writer, I thought I might as well tell you what Christmas means to us mules:

For starters, I had ancestors who were there. One of them gave Mary a ride to Bethlehem. Yeah, I know it was an ass that Mary rode and not a m…

The Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the house,
all Ya’ll was drunk
‘cept for the mouse.

The stockings were scattered
and panties were too,
for all who came by
to see what you do.

The children, ‘cross town
where carols, they’ll sing,
while you and your friends
party and swing.

You in your thong
and me, without pants,
all watched from the couch,
the prostitutes dance.

Our new friends this evening
now know us too well,
and all who are with us
hope no one will tell.

When up on the roof
we heard such a noise
like the pulsing vibrations
of our favorite toys.

While out on the lawn
arose such a clatter,
but we were all stoned
so it didn’t matter.

When in walked the vice squad,
warrants and all,
and you said, “He’s cute,”
pointing at one tall.

And he said, “Hands up,
and do what you’re told.”
But you replied, “Bondage
is getting so old!”

So down at the station
they dragged us all in.
I called my bondsman
to make bail again.

But my bondsman was busy
with problems his own.
Seems he’…

Kramps Cramps Us

Krampus came to our house
to take our Christmas back;
ate our turkey, ate our goose,
and even ate our cat.
We thought he'd only come and go,
but it seems he's here to stay,
so we'll be very good this year
in hopes he leaves by Christmas Day.

Krampus is a half goat, half demon who takes toys away from children who have been bad. In parts of Europe, on December 5, Krampusnacht (Krampus Night) is celebrated and on December 6, The Feast of St. Nicholas takes place., you can read more about Krampus at Wikipedia.

Red Stripe

Found a Red Stripe bottle in the road today.
It'd been bounced of the hood of my Chevrolet.
If I find who threw it, they'll be hell to pay.
For Jamaica, they'll be bound.

The hoodlums come and they trash the place,
scaring' ol' ladies into praying grace.
If they dare cross me I'll be in their face--
my shotgun, cut 'em down.

I'm getting kinda weary of the same ol' shit.
If you try to do right, people pitch a fit
but the one, throwed the bottle, don't care who he hit,
run the good folks in the ground.

I'm loading' up my weapons, gonna have some fun
takin' 'em down, put 'em on the run.
They'll be none left by the time I'm done...

But you know, being it's Christmas... maybe I'll let it slide.

No More Red And Blue Christmas

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By Angelina Liana Pierce


To the neighbors that have red and blue flashing Christmas lights... could you please remove your lights? Every time I pass, I think the police are there & I have to slam on my brakes, quickly put my seat belt on, throw my mobile phone in the back seat, hide the bottle of Rum, hide my gun, and choke down the joint I may have been smoking' !! Your cooperation would be great. Thanks so much for understanding my predicament !!!!!!! 🙂🙂🙂 Merry Christmas 🎄

Naked Elf On Page 3

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Here at Billy's Page 3 Girls we searched far and wide for the perfect Page 3 Girl in which to celebrate the Holidaze with. Problem is: we couldn't find her.

But not wanting to let you down we went out and found the Naked Elf. Will the folks at Tröegs Independent Brewing ever be surprised when they find out we've got their "girl".

Why at 7.5% alcohol by volume, no cherries, honey, or chocolate, this elf is about as naked as elfs can get. And "she" only comes 'round once a year just like the Holidaze. So enjoy her while you can for just as soon as we get hit with the copyright infringement suit the Tröegs Independent Brewing, Naked Elf will be gone.

So what's next for Billy's Page 3 Girls, naked reindeer?