Entertainment jokes

Mariah Carey's got so much shaft, even elevators are jealous of her.

I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he's a she. Think about it. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull it all off!

For starters, the vast majority of men don't even think about selecting gifts until Christmas Eve. It's as if they are all frozen in some kind of Ebenezerian Time Warp until 3 p.m. on Dec. 24th, when they - with amazing calm - call other errant men and plan for a last-minute shopping spree.

Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. (You might think this would send them into a fit of panic and guilt, but my husband tells me it's an enormous relief because it lessens the 11th hour decision-making burden.) On this count alone, I'm convinced Santa is a woman. Surely, if he were a man, everyone in the universe would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating musical Chia Pet under the tree, still in the bag.

Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all, there would be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted and strapped on to the rear bumper of the sleigh amid wide-eyed, desperate claims that buck season had been extended. Blitzen's rack would already be on the way to the taxidermist.

Even if the male Santa DID have reindeer, he'd still have transportation problems because he would inevitably get lost up there in the snow and clouds and then refuse to stop and ask for directions. Add to this the fact that there would be unavoidable delays in the chimney, where the Bob Vila-like Santa would stop to inspect and repoint bricks in the flue. He would also need to check for carbon monoxide fumes in every gas fireplace, and get under every Christmas tree that is crooked to straighten it to a perfectly upright 90-degree angle.

Other reasons why Santa can't possibly be a man:
- Men can't pack a bag.
- Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.
- Men would feel their masculinity is threatened...having to be seen with all those elves.
- Men don't answer their mail.
- Men would refuse to allow their physique to be described even in jest as anything remotely resembling a "bowlful of jelly."
- Men aren't interested in stockings unless somebody's wearing them.
- Having to do the "Ho Ho Ho" thing would seriously inhibit their ability to pick up women.
- Finally, being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment.

I can buy the fact that other mythical holiday characters are men......... - Father Time shows up once a year unshaven and looking ominous. Definite guy. - Cupid flies around carrying weapons. - Uncle Sam is a politician who likes to point fingers.

Any one of these individuals could pass the testosterone screening test. But not St. Nick. Not a chance. As long as we have each other, good will, peace on earth, faith and Nat King Cole's version of "The Christmas Song," it probably makes little difference what gender Santa is.

I just wish she'd quit dressing like a guy!!!

Season's Beatings

There's gotta be a better way to spend December.

Let's face it: once you're old enough to fall off of Santa's "List", Christmas loses some of its magic. Actually, it loses all its magic and turns into a super-commercialized orgy of over-eating, binge drinking, and familial Hell. But there isn't any "bah, humbug" here... no siree! We just think the venerable holiday could use some fresh changes, nothing big... just a couple of twists here and there. Like a new cover of "White Christmas" sung by Robert Downey Jr. perhaps, or maybe a Ninja Santa, or instead of giving presents, give advice. That way everyone gives and gets. So we kindly suggest that you enact some of these new traditions in your celebration of this holiday season.

* Decorate your fireplace, tree, and house with long fatty strips of Christmas Bacon.

* Fill a pair of galoshes with cottage cheese and leave them by the door Christmas Eve. Check back in the morning to look for Santa's little curds-slathered footprints.

* Get rid of your Christmas Tree and invest in the new Yuletide rage... The Chia Christ!

* Decorate your nipples with frosting, sprinkles, and tinsel.

* Attend Midnight Mass and hoot "boo-yah" every time the priest mentions "the savior".

* Carve stars in pumpkins, and hide painted eggs in your yard while dressed up like Abraham Lincoln. When your neighbors ask you what you're doing, respond, "I was going to ask you freaks the same thing."

* Dress up like an elf, go to a playground, and collect lunch money from kids to "pay for Santa's chemotherapy". Buy a Christmas six pack with the proceeds.

* Find out exactly how many cups of spiked eggnog it takes to get sugarplums to dance in your head.

* Eat Christmas dinner at a soup kitchen in a suit and tie and complain loudly that the service is lousy, the creamed corn is lumpy, and someone smells like "ripe ass".

* Casually hang out at a mall dressed like Santa. When hurried parents ask you if you're the on-duty Santa, smile and say "No. I'm John Wayne Gacy".

* Get the crap beaten out of you for showing the "Christmas Spirit" by hugging strangers on the street.

* Boil goat heads and festoon the outside of your house with them. Suggest to neighbors that they do the same because the skulls "spook flying reindeer".

* Tell your parents you're bringing home someone special, and then arrive with a life-sized Gingerbread Man. If you're a man, tell your folks you're "gay for gingerbread". If you're a woman, tell them you have something else "cooking in the oven".

* Make sure all your toy-sized nativity scenes come with spring-loaded attack sheep, kung-fu grip wise men, and shepherds that transform into robotic tarantulas.

* Christmas Morning Happy Hour at Hooters, 6am 'til Noon.

What do Michael Jackson and plastic bags have in common?

They are both made out of plastic and are dangerous for children to play with.