I was mailed a couple today:
These might be old news to you but I had never heard either of them.
Now it's your turn!
A Christmas Story for people having a bad day:
When four of Santa's elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure.
Then Mrs Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more.
When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where.
Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered.
Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drank all the cider and hidden the liquor. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.
Just then the doorbell rang, and irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.
The angel said very cheerfully, 'Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?'
And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.
Little Barry came into the kitchen where his mother was cooking dinner.
Christmas was coming up and he thought this was a good time to tell his mother what he wanted: 'Mum, I want a bike for Christmas.'
Little Barry was a bit of a troublemaker. He had got into trouble at school and at home. Barry's mother asked him if he thought he deserved to get a bike for Christmas. Little Barry, of course, thought he did.
Barry's mother, being a Christian woman, wanted him to reflect on his behaviour over the last year, and write a letter to God, and tell him why he deserved a bike for Christmas.
Little Barry stomped up the steps to his room and sat down to write God a letter.
LETTER 1:
Dear God,
I have been a very good boy this year and I would like a bike for Christmas. I want a red one.
Your friend, Barry.
Barry knew this wasn't true. He had not been a very good boy this year, so he tore up the letter and started again.
LETTER 2:
Dear God,
This is your friend Barry. I have been a pretty good boy this year, and I would like a red bike for Christmas.
Thank you,
Barry.
Barry knew this wasn't true either. He tore up the letter and started again.
LETTER 3:
Dear God,
I have been an OK boy this year and I would really like a red bike for Christmas.
Your friend,
Barry.
Barry knew he could not send this letter to God either. Barry was very upset. He went downstairs and told his mother he wanted to go to church.
Barry's mother thought her plan had worked because Barry looked very sad. 'Just be home in time for dinner,' his mother said. Barry walked down the street to the church and up to the altar. He looked around to see if anyone was there. He picked up a statue of the Virgin Mary. He slipped it under his shirt and ran out of the church, down the street, into his house, and up to his room. He shut the door to his room and sat down with a piece of paper and a pen.
Barry began to write his letter to God.
LETTER 4:
I'VE GOT YOUR MUM.
IF YOU WANT TO SEE HER AGAIN, SEND THE F*%#ING BIKE!!!
These might be old news to you but I had never heard either of them.
Now it's your turn!