Christmas Jokes — worst jokes

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 heck 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!"

Every Christmas morning, when my kids were little, I read them the nativity story out of the big family bible.

When my son was old enough to talk, he asked me what a stable was.

I thought for a moment how to explain it to him in terms he could understand, then told him, "It's something like your sister's room, but without a stereo."

- Jones: The chinese make it an invariable rule to settle all their debts on New Year's Day.

- Smith: So I understand, but, then again, the Chinese don't have a Christmas the week before!

It was Christmas and the judge was in a merry mood as he asked the prisoner, "What are you charged with?"

"Doing my Christmas shopping early", replied the defendant.

"That's no offense", said the judge. "How early were you doing this shopping?"

"Before the store opened."

Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus,
Sweating his fat away
Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus,
Water-skis on his sleigh

Never have a white Christmas
When you in Melbourne live
Wearing hot pants on the beach
When you your presents give

Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus,
Sweating his fat away
Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus,
Water-skis on his sleigh

Chestnuts roasting on the sidewalk
Castles in the sand
Eating ice-cream, having good talks
Warm Christmas, isn't that grand?

On the 1st day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
Windows 95 for my PC

On the 2nd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
2 GPFs
and Windows 95 for my PC

On the 3rd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
3 ports not responding
2 GPFs
and Windows 95 for my PC

On the 4th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
4 sectors bad
3 ports not responding
2 GPFs
and Windows 95 for my PC

On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
5 eighty six
4 sectors bad
3 ports not responding
2 GPFs
and Windows 95 for my PC

On the 6th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
6 ints conflictin'
5 eighty six
4 sectors bad
3 ports not responding
2 GPFs
and Windows 95 for my PC

On the 7th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
7 files missin'
6 ints conflictin'
5 eighty six
4 sectors bad
3 ports not responding
2 GPFs
and Windows 95 for my PC

On the 8th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
8 Megs overflowin'
7 files missin'
6 ints conflictin'
5 eighty six
4 sectors bad
3 ports not responding
2 GPFs
and Windows 95 for my PC

On the 9th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
9 apps a crashin'
8 megs overflowin'
7 files missin'
6 ints conflictin'
5 eighty six
4 sectors bad
3 ports not responding
2 GPFs
and Windows 95 for my PC

On the 10th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
10 modes not supported
9 apps a crashin'
8 Megs overflowin'
7 files missin'
6 ints conflictin'
5 eighty six
4 sectors bad
3 ports not responding
2 GPFs
and Windows 95 for my PC

On the 11th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
11 instructions faulty
10 modes not supported
9 apps a crashin'
8 Megs overflowin'
7 files missin'
6 ints conflictin'
5 eighty six
4 sectors bad
3 ports not responding
2 GPFs
and Windows 95 for my PC

On the 12th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . .
12 illegal operations
11 instructions faulty
10 modes not supported
9 apps a crashin'
8 Megs overflowin'
7 files missin'
6 ints conflictin'
5 eighty six
4 sectors bad
3 ports not responding
2 GPFs
and Windows 95 for my PC

On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my Significant Other in a consenting adult, monogamous relationship gave to me:

TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming,
ELEVEN pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in their union contract even though they will not be asked to play a note),
TEN melanin deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal ruling class system leaping,
NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,
EIGHT economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk-products from enslaved Bovine-Americans,
SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally protected wetlands,
SIX enslaved Fowl-Americans producing stolen non-human animal products,
FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration,
(NOTE: after members of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to throw red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and partridge have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid further Animal-American enslavement, the remaining gift package has been revised.)
FOUR hours of recorded whale songs
THREE deconstructionist poets
TWO Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses and...
ONE Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.

Merry Christmas Happy Chanukah. Good Kwanzaa. Blessed Yule. Happy Holidays! (unless otherwise prohibited by law)*

*Unless, of course, you are suffering from Seasonally Affected Disorder (SAD). If this be the case, please substitute this gratuitous call for celebration with suggestion that you have a thoroughly adequate day.

With the number of airline disasters lately, the FAA now sends an inspector to the North Pole to check out Santa Claus's sleigh before allowing him to fly on Christmas eve.

The inspector arrives and checks the reindeer and they look good, he checks the harness and it looks okay, he checks the sleigh and it is also okay. Then he says, "Santa, lets take it up for a check ride and if everything looks good I'll certify you to fly."

Santa hitches the reindeer up and taxis onto the runway and just as he's starting his takeoff roll he looks over and notices the inspector has a pump shotgun on his lap. "Hey! Whats the shotgun for!?" Santa yells.

The inspector says, "Well, Santa, I'm really not supposed to tell you this, but there is going to be an engine failure on takeoff."

After being away on business for a week before Christmas, Tom thought it would be nice to bring his wife a little gift.

"How about some perfume?" he asked the cosmetics clerk. She showed him a bottle costing $50.

"That's a bit much," said Tom, so she returned with a smaller bottle for $30.

"Thats still quite a bit," Tom groused.

Growing disgusted, the clerk brought out a tiny $15 bottle.

Tom grew agitated, "What I mean," he said, "is I'd like to see something real cheap."

So the clerk handed him a mirror.

'Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips. Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care in hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.

While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps had just settled down to sugar-borne naps. When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash tore open the icebox then threw up the sash. The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear: a marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer! That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.

The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear; On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS a Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.

From the top of the scales to the top of the hall now dash away pounds now dash away all. Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress my clothes were all bulging from too much excess.

My droll little mouth and my round little belly they shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly. I spoke not a word but went straight to my work ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.

And laying a finger beside my heartburn I gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned. I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry if temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by.

And I mumbled again as I turned for the night in the morning I'll starve . . . 'til I take that first bite.