EXPAT JOKES > XMAS
CHRISTMAS FRUIT CAKE RECIPE
Ingredients:
1 Cup water
2 Cups dried fruit
1 Tablespoon salt
1 Cup sugar
4 Large eggs
Lemon juice
1 tsp. baking soda
8 oz Nuts
8 oz Butter
1 Bottle Wiskey
Method:
Sample the whiskey to check for quality
Take a large bowl.
Check the whiskey again, to be sure it is of the highest quality, pour 1 level cup and drink.
Repeat
Turn on the electric mixer, beat 2 oz. butter in a large fluffy bowl.
Add one tsp. of sugar and beat again. Make sure the whiskey is still OK. Cry another tup. Turn off the mixterer. Break two bowls and add to the eggs and chuck in the dried fruit. Mix on the turner. If
the dried fruit gets stuck in the beaterers, pry it loose with a drewscriver.
Sample the whiskey again to check for tonsisticity.
Next, sift to sups of calt or something. Who cares? Check the whiskey. Now sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.
Add one table spoon of sugar or something. Whatever you can find. Grease the oven. Turn the cake tin to 350 degrees. Don't forget to beat off the turner. Throw the bowl out of the window. Check the whiskey again and go to bed.
Next day, take 3 aspirins -and go to Marks and Spencer. Buy Christmas cake.
I couldn't find any carrots
for the nose, so I got this
from mums draw
Cinderella was now 75 years old. After a fulfilled life with the now dead Prince, she happily sat upon her rocking chair, watching the world go by from her front porch, with a cat called
Alan for companionship. One sunny afternoon, out of nowhere, appeared the Fairy Godmother. Cinderella said "Fairy Godmother, what are you doing here after all these years?"
The Fairy Godmother replied "Well Cinderella, since you have lived a good, wholesome life since we last met, I have decided to grant you 3 wishes. Is there anything for which your heart still
yearns?" Cinderella is taken aback, overjoyed and after some thoughtful consideration and almost under her breath she uttered her first wish: "I wish I was wealthy beyond
comprehension."
Instantly, her rocking chair was turned into solid gold. Cinderella was stunned. Alan, her old faithful cat, jumped off her lap and scampered to the edge of the porch, quivering with fear. Cinderella
said "Oh thank you, Fairy Godmother". The Fairy Godmother replied "It is the least I can do. What does your heart want for your second wish?"
Cinderella looked down at her frail body, and said: "I wish I was young and full of the beauty of youth again". At once, her wish having been desired, became reality, and her beautiful
youthful visage had returned. Cinderella felt stirrings inside her that had been dormant for years and long forgotten vigour and vitality began to course through her very
soul. Then the Fairy Godmother again spoke: "You have one more wish, What shall you have?"
Cinderella looked over to the frightened cat in the corner and said: "I wish you to transform Alan my old cat into a beautiful and handsome young man". Magically, Alan suddenly underwent so
fundamental a change in his biological make-up, that when complete he stood before her, a boy, so beautiful the like of which she nor the world had ever seen, so fair indeed that birds begun to fall
from the sky at his feet. The Fairy Godmother again spoke: "Congratulations, Cinderella. Enjoy your new life." And, with a blazing shock of bright blue electricity, she was gone. For a few
eerie moments, Alan and Cinderella looked into each other's eyes.
Cinderella sat, breathless, gazing at the most stunningly perfect boy she had ever seen. Then Alan walked over to Cinderella, who sat transfixed in her rocking chair, and held her close in his young
muscular arms. He leant in close to her ear, and into her ear breathed as much as whispered, blowing her golden hair with his warm breath, and said... "I bet you regret having my bollocks chopped
off now, don't you?"
Does Santa really exist?
There are approximately two billion children (persons under 18) in the world. However, since Santa does not visit children of Muslim, Hindu, Jewish or Buddhist (except maybe in Japan) religions, this reduces the workload for Christmas night to 15% of the total, or 378 million (according to the population reference bureau). At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that comes to 108 million homes, presuming there is at least one good child in each. Santa has about 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 967.7 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with a good child, Santa has around 1/1000 th of a second to park the sleigh, hop out, jump down the chimney, fill the stocking, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left for him, get back up the chimney, jump into the sleigh and get onto the next house.
Assuming that each of these 108 million stops is evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false, but will accept for the purposes of our calculations), we are now talking about 0.78 miles per household; a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting bathroom stops or breaks. This means Santa’s sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second--3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man made vehicle, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second, and a conventional reindeer can run (at best) 15 miles per hour.
The payload of the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming That each child gets nothing more than a medium sized LEGO set (two pounds), the sleigh is carrying over 500 thousands tons, not counting Santa himself. on land, a conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that the "flying" reindeer can pull 10 times the normal amount, the job can’t be done with eight or even nine of them---Santa would need 360,000 of them. This increases the payload, not counting the weight of the sleigh, another 54,000 tons, or roughly seven times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth (the ship, not the monarch). 600,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance - this would heat up the reindeer in the same fashion as a spacecraft re-entering the earth’s atmosphere.
The lead pair of reindeer would adsorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy per second each. In short, they would burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team would be vaporised within 4.26 thousandths of a second, or right about the time Santa reached the fifth house on his trip.
Not that it matters, however, since Santa, as a result of accelerating from a dead stop to 650 m.p.s. in .001 seconds, would be subjected to acceleration forces of 17,000 g’s. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of the sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force, instantly crushing his bones and organs and reducing him to a quivering blob of pink goo. Therefore, if Santa did exist, he’s dead now.
Merry Christmas
It is Christmas Eve, this chap is on a rooftop about to jump off. His wife is leaving him for another man, he has lost his job and he owes thousands of pounds to the bank. Just as he
finishes his prayers and closes his eyes, ready to jump, Father Christmas taps him on the shoulder. "Are you OK?" asks Father Christmas.
The man explains why he is so miserable and gets ready to jump.
"Stop !" shouts Father Christmas. "It is Christmas, I will grant you three wishes to solve your problems on the understanding that you will grant me a small favour in return!"
"Would you ?" the man replies. "That would be wonderful!!.....Thank you, thank you !"
Father Christmas promises him that:
1. You shall go home in 1 hour and your wife will be dressed in her sexiest underwear, begging for forgiveness and longing for your return, she will have no recollection of her
new boyfriend.
2. You shall go into work tomorrow, sit at your desk and continue with your work. Your salary will have increased by 50%. Also, nobody will have any recollection of your sacking.
3. You shall go to your bank and you will be ten thousand pounds in credit, you will have no outstanding bills. "Oh thank you, thank you !" says the man.
"What is it that I can do for you?"
Father Christmas asks the man to drop his pants and bend over. After a quite brutal rogering, which made his eyes water a little, Father Christmas asks the man how old he is."36" replies the
man. "Ho Ho Ho, You're a bit old to believe in Father Christmas aren't you!"? Chuckled the jolly fat gay bastard.
THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS
14th Dec
My Dearest John,
I went to the door today and the Postman had for me a Partridge in a Pear Tree. What a delightful gift:- Thank you darling, with deep love and affection always.
Your Loving Agnes
15th Dec
Dearest John,
Today the Postman brought your very sweet gift of two Turtle Doves. I am delighted. They are adorable.
Your Agnes
16th Dec
Dear John
OK how extravagant you are. I really must protest. I don't: deserve such generosity, three French hens. I insist you are too kind.
Love Agnes
17th Dec
Dear John,
Yet another present…..this time Four Calling Birds. You really are spoiling me.
Love Agnes
18th Dec
Dear John,
What a surprise. Today the Postman brought me Five Golden Rings, one for each finger . You really are impossible, but I love you. Thank-you but frankly all those birds are beginning to get on my
nerves with their constant squawking.
Your ever loving Agnes
19th Dec
Dear John
When I opened the door this morning there were actually six bloody great geese laying eggs all over the doorstep. So we're black with the birds again. Where on earth do you suppose I can keep them
all? The neighbours say that they can smell them. I can’t sleep for the noise. Please stop!
Cordially Agnes
20th Dec
John
What is it with these sodding birds? Now I got swans a swimming. Is this some sort of god damned joke or what? The house is full of bird shit and the racket…. I'm becoming a nervous wreck: So it’s
not funny. Stop sending bloody birds.
Agnes
21st Dec
OK Buster
I think .I preferred the birds. What the hell am I going to do with eight maids a milking? Its not enough with all those birds…..now I have eight cows a shitting all over the house, mooing all
night. Lay off smart-ass
Agnes
22nd Dec
Dear Shithead,
What are you? Some kind of nut? Now I have nine pipers playing and Christ do they play, and when they aren’t playing their sodding pipes they are chasing the maids through the cow shit. The cows
keep on mooing and are treading all over the fucking birds !!! The neighbours are threatening to have me evicted.
You'll get yours. Agnes
23rd Dec
You Rotten Bastard,
Now we have ten ladies a dancing. How on earth can anyone call these whores ladies is beyond me. They are balling the pipers all night long. The cows can’t sleep and have diarrhoea. My living room
is a river of shit and the landlord has declared the building unfit.
Piss off, Agnes
24th Dec
Listen Dickhead,
With eleven lords leaping all over the maids, the ladies and me, I may never walk again. The pipers are fighting the lords for the crumpet and are committing buggery with the cows. All the birds are
dead and rotting in the cow shit after being trampled down in the orgy, but not before they had eaten my golden rings. I hope you are satisfied!
Agnes
CROBBIT AND RUIN LIMITED, Solicitors
Dear Sir,
We are in receipt of your gift of the 25th of twelve fiddlers fiddling with themselves. We understand this is merely the latest infliction in your sustained persecution of our client Miss Fullbody,
Who is at present residing in the happy hours nursing home. We are under instruction to charge you with the destruction of our clients’ home, sanity and genitals. You are warned not to contact Miss
Fullbody, who has given the nursing home staff instructions to shoot you on sight. A warrant has been issued for your arrest and should be served after you receive this letter. Please excuse the cow
shit thereon.
SHOULD AULD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT…
No! I will not dress as a reindeer
Santa was very cross. It was Christmas Eve and NOTHING was going right. Mrs Claus had burned all the cakes. The elves were complaining about not getting paid for the overtime they had worked while making the toys. The reindeer had been drinking all afternoon and were dead drunk. To make matters worse, they had taken the sleigh out for a spin earlier in the day and had crashed it into a tree. Santa was furious. "I can't believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over the world in just a few hours, all of my reindeer are drunk, the elves are on strike and I don't even have a Christmas tree! I sent that stupid Little Angel out HOURS ago to find a tree and he isn't even back yet! What am I going to do?" Just then, the Little Angel opened the front door and stepped in from the snowy night, dragging a Christmas tree. He says "Yo, fat man! Where do you want me to stick the tree this year?" And thus the tradition of angels atop the Christmas tree came to pass........
|
|
"Holiday |
Your Christmas ham is now being made to order
CINDERELLA
(An adaptation by one G. A. Baker - Hong Kong, April 1992)
This is the story of Cinderella and her sugly isters. They lived in a marge lansion where poor Cinders worked hery vard - fribbing scloors, weaaning clindows, emptying poss pits and shivelling
shut. By the end of the day she was nucking fackered. Her sugly isters were fight cucking runts. They did no wucking fork, and had no wucking forries. they really were bugly astards. One was called
Snelly Smatch and the other was called Fairy Hanny - they were always pucking fissed.
The two sugly isters had tickets to go to the Brince's Pall, and poor Cinderella was ducking fisgusted when the cotton runts would not let her go, but Cinders had afood griend called Buttons who also
worked at the marge lansion. Buttons was gifted with nuge hackers and a shairy hithole, and he was a candy runt - he liked Cinders to give him a wood gank whilst he was diving his oaking wut finger
into her hubic pairs.
Cinders was alone at home on the evening of the Brince's Pall, when suddenly there was such a bucking fang, and Cinders Gairy Fodmother appeared. Her real name was Sherry Tighthouse, and she was a
light rucking fesbian with a carge lairy hunt and mits to tatch. She turned a pumpkin and six might whice into a hucking cuge farraige with six dandet ronkeys with buge hollocks. The Gairy Fodmother
warned Cinders to be hack bome by twelve midnight, or there would be a cucking falamity.
At the ball, Cinders was dancing with the pransome hince to music by Stid Siff and his Snivelling Seven. They were gucking food, but the drunken drummer made a rucking facket. When Stid blew his
trucking fumpet he was bucking frilliant, but he was a hig beaded banky wastard, and everone wished he would stick his trumpet up his ucking farsehole.
Soddenly, the cluck struck twelve. Cinders pucking fanicked, and in running out of the ballroom tripped barse over ollock and lost one of her slass glippers.
The next day the Prandsome Hince came knocking on Cinder's door, determined to find the girl the slass glipper would fit.
The Prandsome Hince tried the slass glipper on each of the sugly isters, but was put right off when Fairy Hanny let off a fig bart, and he smelt the fetty hanny of Snelly Smatch. He tried the slass
glipper on Cinders and it sitted pucking ferfectly. "Puck my siles", said the Prince. "Suck your own", said the angry sugly isters, but it made no difference for very soon Pinders
and the Crince were married, and Buttons went to live with them in the palace - he ended his days in luckin fuxury, and she ended hers with a follen swanny.
AND THEY ALL HIVED LAPPILY AVER EFTER.
Christmas is coming,
The goose is getting fat,
And I don't often send
a card to a twat,
But seeing as it's Christmas,
And greetings are due,
I've decided to make
an exception for you!
Money's short,
and times are hard,
So here is your fuckin'
Christmas card.
OK Santa, you've got to loose some weight from that big belly!
How do you know if you've been a good boy?
All of the other reindeer used to call him names...
