And the recipe comes from a most unlikely source: Paula Deen of Paula's Home Cooking. The first-and only- time I watched her show, I became convinced that the main ingredients for all of her recipes consisted of salt, salt, salt and fat. She made Steve look a vegetarian by comparison. Proving that a blind, fat, needs-an-angioplasty squirrel can find a nut when she really needs to, Paula created the recipe that follows. Trust me: you won't go back to garden-variety banana pudding ever again.
=========================================
Ingredients
--------------
2 bags Pepperidge Farm Chessmen cookies(as much as I love Nilla Wafers, this is an upgrade)

6 to 8 bananas, sliced
2 cups milk
1 (5-ounce) box instant French vanilla pudding
1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, softened
1 (14-ounce) can sweetened condensed milk
1 (12-ounce) container frozen whipped topping thawed, or equal amount sweetened whipped cream

Directions
-------------
Line the bottom of a 13 by 9 by 2-inch dish with 1 bag of cookies and layer bananas on top.

In a bowl, combine the milk and pudding mix and blend well using a handheld electric mixer. Using another bowl, combine the cream cheese and condensed milk together and mix until smooth. Fold the whipped topping into the cream cheese mixture. Add the cream cheese mixture to the pudding mixture and stir until well blended. Pour the mixture over the cookies and bananas and cover with the remaining cookies. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

Posted by: Physics Geek at 07:36 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 248 words, total size 2 kb.

Everyone knew that this was coming, even the dishonest dicks claiming that it would never happen.

Posted by: Physics Geek at 06:46 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Suffice it to say that working 2 jobs during the Christmas season, with 2 small children in the house, takes quite a bit of my time and attention. Sure, I've posted a bunch lately, but it's almost all bee retreads of my earlier work. What little original material I've created has been snuck in during lunchtime. Anyhoo, whilst my attention was elsewhere, Andrew Sullivan decided to take whatever goodwill people had thought about giving him and tossed it into the toilet. I'm not linking to the post in question because I'm not giving that once-inspired-writer-turned-whiny-hack whatever pitiful traffic I could send his way. Gerard weighs in on the subject in his usual eloquent manner; Spoons has more here and here.

I'm sorry that it's come to this. Andrew has been one of my mainstays since I first stumbled onto blogs via the Corner. No more, though. One benefit is that I'll have more time to read better writers.

Posted by: Physics Geek at 05:50 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Emily just turned 32. Okay, it was yesterday; I'm running behind in my blog reading. Stop by and congratulate her. Also, she's included a handy-dandy link so that you can send her a virtual beer. Hmm. I wonder if she likes homebrewed beer?

Posted by: Physics Geek at 10:21 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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How ice cream cones are really made:

Posted by: Physics Geek at 09:01 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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The punchline is obvious, but it still made me laugh. Check this out.

Posted by: Physics Geek at 08:56 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Bashing the French:

"France has neither winter nor summer nor morals.
Apart from these drawbacks it is a fine country.
France has usually been governed by prostitutes."
---Mark Twain

"I would rather have a German division in front of me
than a French one behind me."
--- General George S. Patton

"Going to war without France is like going deer
hunting without your accordion."
---Norman Schwartzkopf

"We can stand here like the French, or we can do
something about it."
----Marge Simpson

"As far as I'm concerned, war always means failure"
---Jacques Chirac, President of France; and...

"As far as France is concerned, you're right."
---Rush Limbaugh

The only time France wants us to go to war is when
the German Army is sitting in Paris sipping coffee."
--- Regis Philbin

"The French are a smallish, monkey-looking bunch and
not dressed any better, on average, than the citizens of
Baltimore. True, you can sit outside in Paris and drink
little cups of coffee, but why this is more stylish than
sitting inside and drinking large glasses of whiskey I
don't know."
--- P. J. O'Rourke (1989)

"You know, the French remind me a little bit of an
aging actress of the 1940s who was still trying to
dine out on her looks but doesn't have the face for it."
---John McCain, U. S. Senator from Arizona

"You know why the French don't want to bomb
Saddam Hussein? Because he hates America, he
loves mistresses and wears a beret. He is French,
people."
--Conan O'Brien

"I don't know why people are surprised that France
won't help us get Saddam out of Iraq. After all,
France wouldn't help us get the Germans out of
France!"
---Jay Leno

"The last time the French asked for 'more proof' it
came marching into Paris under a German flag."
---David Letterman

How many Frenchmen does it take to change a light
bulb? One. He holds the bulb and all of Europe revolves
around him.

French Army tanks have five gears: four in reverse,
and one forwards, in case the enemy attacks from the rear.

Next time there's a war in Europe, the loser has to
keep France.

France announced today that it plans to ban fireworks
at Euro Disney, following last night's display that caused
soldiers at a nearby French army garrison to surrender.

Update: Looks like I'm not the only that ::cough::loves::cough:: the French. Mheh.

Posted by: Physics Geek at 06:34 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 410 words, total size 3 kb.

Not only did I post this last year, I've sent it out via email for more than 10 years. I promised you old and stale, and I've delivered ancient and decayed. No thanks are necessary.
===============================================

December 14, 1972

My dearest darling John:

Who ever in the whole world would dream of getting a real Partridge
in a Pear Tree? How can I ever express my pleasure. Thank you a
hundred times for thinking of me this way.

My love always,

Agnes
================================================

December 15, 1972

Dearest John:

Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine two
turtle doves. I'm just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They
are just adorable.

All my love,

Agnes
================================================

December 16, 1972

Dear John:

Oh! Aren't you the extravagant one. Now I must protest. I don't
deserve such generosity, three French hens. They are just darling
but I must insist, you've been too kind.

All my love,
Agnes
================================================

December 17, 1972

Dear John:

Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really, they are
beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough. You are being too
romantic.

Affectionately,

Agnes
================================================

December 18, 1972

Dearest John:

What a surprise. Today the postman delivered five golden rings, one for
every finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, all
those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves.

All my love,
Agnes
=================================================

December 19, 1972

Dear John:

When I opened the door today there were actually six geese laying on my
front steps. So you're back to the birds again huh? These geese are huge.
Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't
sleep through the racket. Please stop.

Cordially,
Agnes
================================================

December 20, 1972

John:

What's with you and those freaking birds?? Seven swans a swimming. What
kind of damn joke is this? There's bird poop all over the house and they
never stop the racket. I can't sleep at night and I'm a nervous wreck. It's
not funny. So stop those freaking birds.

Sincerely,
Agnes
================================================

December 21, 1972

O.K. Buster:

I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with 8
maids a milking? It's not enough with all those birds and 8 maids a
milking, but they had to bring their damn cows. There is manure all over the
lawn and I can't move in my own house. Just lay off me, smartass.

Agnes
================================================

December 22, 1972

Hey Shithead:

What are you.....some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers
playing. And Christ do they play. They've never stopped chasing
those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are
getting upset and they're stepping all over those screeching birds.
What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict
me.

You'll get yours !
Agnes
================================================

December 23, 1972

You rotten prick:

Now there's ten ladies dancing. I don't know why I call those sluts
ladies. They've been balling those pipers all night long. Now the
cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river
of shit. The Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause
why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm calling the police on you !

Agnes
================================================

December 24, 1972

Listen F--khead:

What's with those eleven lords a leaping on those maid and ladies?
Some of those broads will never walk again. Those pipers ran through the
maids and have been committing sodomy with the cows. All twenty-three
of the birds are dead. They've been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope
you're satisfied, you rotten vicious swine.

You're sworn enemy,
Agnes
================================================

December 25, 1972

Dear Sir:

This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling
which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes
McHolstein. The destruction, of course, was total. All
correspondence should come to our attention. If you should
attempt to reach Miss McHolstein at Happy Dale Sanitarium,
the attendants have been instructed to shoot you on sight.

With this letter please find attached a warrant for your arrest.

Cordially,

Law Offices of Badger, Bender and Chole

Posted by: Physics Geek at 03:43 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Holiday Party

FROM: Ms.Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

TO: Everyone

RE: Christmas Party

DATE: December 1

I'm happy to inform you that the office Christmas Party will

take place on December 22, starting at noon in the banquet

room at Luigi's Open Pit Barbecue. No-host bar, but plenty of

eggnog! We'll have a small band playing traditional carols...

feel free to sing along. And don't be surprised if our General Manager shows up dressed as Santa Claus!

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 4

RE: Christmas Party

In no way was yesterday's memo intended to exclude our Jewish

employees. We recognize that Chanukah is an important holiday

which often coincides with Christmas, though unfortunately not

this year. However, from now on we're calling it our "Holiday Party."

The same policy applies to employees who are celebrating Kwanzaa

at this time. Happy now?

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 5

RE: Holiday Party

Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous

requesting a non-drinking table...you didn't sign your name. I'm happy

to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table that

reads,"AAOnly," you wouldn't be anonymous anymore. How am I

supposed to handle this? Somebody?

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 6

RE: Holiday Party

What a diverse company we are! I had no idea that November 27

was the beginning of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which

forbids eating, drinking and intimacy during daylight hours. There

goes the party! Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon

this time of year does not accommodate our Muslim employees beliefs.

Perhaps Luigi's can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the

party, or else package everything for take-home in little foil swans.

Will that work? Meanwhile, I've arranged for members of Overeaters

Anonymous to sit farthest from the dessert buffet and pregnant

women will get the table closest to the restrooms. Did I miss anything?

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 7

RE: Holiday Party

So December 21 marks the Winter Solstice...what do you expect me

to do, a tap-dance on your heads? Fire regulations at Luigi's prohibit

the burning of sage by our "earth-based Goddess worshipping"

employees, but we'll try to accommodate your shamanic drumming

circle during the band's breaks. Okay???

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 8

RE: Holiday Party

People, people, nothing sinister was intended by having our GM

dress up like Santa Claus! Even if the anagram of "Santa" does

happen to be Satan," there is no evil connotation to our own

"little man in a red suit." It's a tradition, folks, like sugar shock

at Halloween or family feuds over the Thanksgiving turkey or

broken hearts on Valentine's Day. Could we lighten up?

FROM: Pat Smith, Human Resources Director

DATE: December 11

RE: Holiday Party

Vegetarians!? I've had it with you people! We're going to keep

this party at Luigi's Open Pit Barbecue whether you like it or not,

so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill of death,"

as you so quaintly put it, and you'll get your #$%^&*! salad bar,

including hydroponic tomatoes...but you know, they have feelings,

too. Tomatoes scream when you slice them. I've heard them scream,

I'm hearing them scream right now!

FROM: Karen Jones, Acting Human Resources Director

DATE: December 12

RE:Ms. Pat Smith and Holiday Party

I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing Pat Smith a speedy recovery

from her stress-related illness and I'll continue to forward your cards

to her at the sanitarium. In the meantime, management has decided

to cancel our Holiday Party and give everyone the afternoon of the

22nd off with full pay.

Happy Holidays

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Helen has posted another gem, and this time it's about the need to believe in Santa Claus. I believe that this editorial should have put that question to rest, permanently. Thank you, Virginia O'Hanlon:

Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus

Editorial Page, New York Sun, 1897



We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If you see it in The Sun, it's so." Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?

Virginia O'Hanlon
-------------------------
Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a sceptical age. They do not believe except what they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus?Thank God he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!!!

I'm certain that I will repeat this story many times to my newborn daughter, who coincidentally is named Virginia. Yes, I believe, too.

Posted by: Physics Geek at 02:37 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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A cure for beal: reposting old stuff from last year. Sure saves me a lot of effort...
=========================================

Rudolph was a four-hoofed ungulate, who, incidentally, possessed
a nasal appendage of a maroon luster. Consequently, if
circumstances were to present themselves that he ever came into
your view, you would most undoubtedly remark at to its luminary
qualities.

The multitude of other members of the population in his
ecological community had previously teased, chuckled
boisterously, and dubbed him unspeakable pseudonyms -- the
objective of which was to lower his self-esteem and make him
miserable. They also excluded him from participation in leisure
activities consistent with their species.

However, on the twenty-fourth of December in an unspecified year,
a mythological, supernatural being inherent to western culture
(who symbolizes the Christmas attitude and allegedly brings gifts
to children) arrived through the supersaturated, humid air, spoke
to Rudolph and formally invited him, due to his extraordinary
nasal characteristic to stand at the forefront of his snow
vehicle with the express purpose that he navigate through the
nocturnal mist.

At that point, the multitude of other members of the population
in his ecological community who had previously teased, chuckled
boisterously, and dubbed him unspeakable pseudonyms, reversed
their disposition toward Rudolph to a more congenial, amicable
relationship. They consequently exclaimed with great exaltation
and fervor, "Rudolph, the antlered mammal with a maroon nasal
appendage, you shall most certainly be recorded in the annals of
time, and your memory will be preserved for posterity!

Posted by: Physics Geek at 08:02 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Quite an interesting comment thread going on over here. The artist formerly known as The Creator of Worlds passes along some insights on what drives someone to quite blogging, which I greatly fear may come to pass at Protein Wisdom. The whole thread is worthwhile, but here are a couple of wheat grains hidden in the chaff:

Well, YJP, in the blogosphere (and Christ, there’s a word I hate—like “fisking"), higher rankings mean better ad revenue, and rankings are a product of more than just quality product. I wish it weren’t so, but it is.

I blew off the Washington Post awards and, from the perspective of building a readership, that was a mistake.

Re: these contests. Well, you and I have talked about this before, so you know I hate these things. But IÂ’m terrible at marketing, and these things are ways to market the site. So as much as I hate it, I have to do it.

Makes me sick to ask people to go vote for me everyday. Seriously. I feel dirty. But if I am unable to make this thing pay for itself, I canÂ’t justify doing it daily. So IÂ’m learning to whore myself a little bit. Reluctantly.

Right now I’m at that, “hey, you don’t look that slutty in fish nets” point.

Posted by Jeff Goldstein

And this one:

It took Allah almost ten months to totally burn out and quit blogging after winning last year, Jeff.

No, it took Allah three months to totally burn out. The seven months after that were a mix of shitty, boring Photoshops and straightforward snoozefest warblogging to keep up my traffic.

Here’s how it’s gonna go down, Jeff. Sometime in April or maybe early May, you’re going to be sitting there with that Martha Stewart diary template open, your mind a complete blank. And suddenly you’ll think, “I’ve done it. I’ve done every muff-dive joke known to man. There’s nowhere left to go.” So you’ll say ah, well, fuck it, no more Martha Stewart ‘shops. But then here’s what’ll happen: Martha will get paroled or she’ll get in a fight in the prison commissary or something, and suddenly everyone and their fucking mother will be e-mailing you saying, “Dude, you HAVE GOT to ‘shop this. The earth itself cries out for it.” And you’ll start sweating again ‘cause just about the last fucking thing in the world you’ll want to do at that point is tap out another Stewart piece. Maybe you’ll do it anyway. Or, just maybe, you’ll start wondering the same thing I wondered when I eventually got to this point: namely, could booting up the old Sega and replaying Sonic The Hedgehog all the way through really be a worse use of my time than this? And the answer is: no. No, it could not.

The moment I finally knew for sure that quitting was the right thing to do was when Arafat was in that he’s dead/he’s not dead limbo. The demand for agonizingly cliched Arafat/"Weekend at Bernie’s” ‘shops was at an all-time high. And you know and I know and everyone else knows damn well who would have been expected to provide the supply, were he still blogging at the time. The horror. The horror.

I want to assure you that when your Sonic The Hedgehog moment comes, IÂ’ll be there for you. Game paddle in hand.

Posted by Allah

The above comment prompted this reply from Jeff:

That’s beautiful, Allah. But c’mon—how does one ever run out of muff diving jokes? Seriously. It that even possible?

Posted by Jeff Goldstein

Posted by: Physics Geek at 08:00 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 609 words, total size 4 kb.

CHRISTMAS INFO MEMO 12/21
IT CAME UPON A SERVER CLEAR...
***************************************************
Archaeologists working in the Holy Land have discovered an ancient
diskette mixed up with the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Here is what they found on the diskette:

Date: Mon, 2 Dec

To: all@gol.com

From: Caesar_Augustus@Rome.gov

Subject: Taxes, Census

I decree that all the inhabited world shall be counted and taxed. You must
every one go unto your own city.
------------------------------------------------------

Date: Wed, 4 Dec

To: Inn@Bethlehem.com

From: nazrthjosph@gol.com

Subject: Reservations

Please reserve room for two, perhaps three, for December 24 to
January 6.
------------------------------------------------------

Date: Fri, 6 Dec

To: nazrthjosph@gol.com

From: Inn@Bethlehem.com

Subject: RE: Reservations

Sorry, no room available. We've got the Hanukkah rush and the census crowd.
Thank heaven Athens beat us out for the Olympics this year! Why not come in
the off-season and get our special rate? Anyway, if you have a forms-capable
browser, you can register for the census and pay your taxes on the Med Wide Web
at http://mww.Caesar.gov/render.html.
------------------------------------------------------

Date: Sun, 8 Dec

To: Inn@Bethlehem.com

From: nazrthjosph@gol.com

Subject: RE: RE: Reservations

Forms-capable browser? You must be kidding! It'll probably take
Galilee OnLine a couple of thousand years to work out access like
that. Please place us on waiting list for room.
------------------------------------------------------

Date: Mon, 23 Dec

To: Inn@Bethlehem.com

From: healthdept@ci.beth.judea

Subject: Temporary Permit

Due to the crush of taxpayers and holiday visitors, you are hereby
granted a permit to use your stable, barn, or any agricultural outbuildings
for temporary lodging or shelter for up to 30 days from this date.

Address any appeals to:
Herod@Jerusalem.gov
ATTN: Manger Manager
-----------------------------------------------------

Date: Wed, 25 Dec

To: Webmaster@houseofdavid.net

From: nazrthjosph@gol.com

Subject: It's a boy!

Unto us a son is born.

Let the family know. He came upon a midnight clear, away in a manger.
Hope to upgrade room.

Love, Joe
-----------------------------------------------------

Date: Wed, 25 Dec

To: shepherds@nightwatch.com

From: heraldangels@lord.org

Subject: Hark!

Tidings of great joy: Unto you is born this day in the city of David
a Saviour.
-----------------------------------------------------

Date: Wed, 25 Dec

To: shepherds@nightwatch.com

From: heavenlyhost@lord.org

Subject: Praise the Lord ...

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward
men.
-----------------------------------------------------

Date: Wed, 25 Dec

To: shepherds@nightwatch.com

From: heavenlyhost@lord.org

Subject: ... and Pass the Admonition

If ye do not act now, rates for heavenly hostingWeb sites will go up
January 1. Sign up now to lock in current prices, so ye can make known
abroad (at our famous low rates) the saying which was told you
concerning this child, glorifying and praising God for all the things
that ye have heard and seen, as it was told unto you.
-----------------------------------------------------

Date: Wed, 25 Dec

To: heavenlyhost@lord.org

From: shepherds@nightwatch.com

Subject: RE: ... and Pass the Admonition

Angels we have heard on high. We'll sign up, but only if you can get
us the domain name we want: FirstNoel.com.
-----------------------------------------------------

Date: Wed, 25 Dec

To: nazrthjosph@gol.com

From: melchior@magi.edu

Subject: Star sighting

We've seen the light! Heading your way. May take a few days. Caspar wants
to pick up some gold, frankincense, and myrrh before leaving. And for some
reason, everything seems to be closed today. Also, transportation is heavily
booked westward leading, still proceeding. We just got bumped off a caravan
because Balthazar wanted a non-smoking camel. See you January 6 or so.
Sorry we'll miss the bris. So, what are you going to name the kid, anyway?
------------------------------------------
And his name shall be called Jesus.
That's what this is all about...
------------------------------------------

Posted by: Physics Geek at 07:46 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 586 words, total size 6 kb.

Copy, paste, repeat:

I think Santa Claus is a woman....

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. Definite Guy.

Uncle Sam is a politician who likes to point fingers. Definite Guy.

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!!!
===============================================
Holiday Diet Tips
----------------

1. If no one sees you eat it, it has no calories.

2. If you drink a diet soda with a candy bar, they cancel each other out.

3. When eating with someone else, calories don't count if you both eat the same amount.

4. Foods used for medicinal purposes have no calories. This includes any chocolate used for energy, brandy, Sara Lee cheesecake (eaten whole), and Haagen-Dazs ice cream.

5. Some foods are much lower in calories simply because they are a part of the entertainment experience and not part of one's personal fuel. This includes Milk Duds, popcorn with butter, Junior Mints, Snickers, and Gummi Bears.

6. Cookie pieces contain no calories because the process of breakage causes calorie leakage.

7. If you eat the food off someone else's plate, it doesn't count.

8. If you eat standing up the calories all go to your feet and get walked off.

9. Food eaten at Christmas parties has no calories, courtesy of Santa.

10. STRESSED is just DESSERTS spelled backward.
============================================
Downsizing At Christmas
Seasons Greetings

The usual large flamboyant typeface associated with the seasons
greetings has been downsized this year commensurate with the trend
toward corporate downsizing. And the fact that SMTP does not support
typeface control. The recent announcement that Donner and Blitzen have
elected to take the early reindeer retirement package has triggered a
good deal of concern about whether they will be replaced, and about
other restructuring decisions at the North Pole.

Streamlining was appropriate in view of the reality that the North
Pole no longer dominates the season's gift distribution business. Home
shopping channels and mail order catalogues have diminished Santa's
market share and he could not sit idly by and permit further erosion
of the profit picture. The reindeer downsizing was made possible
through the purchase of a late model Japanese sled for the CEO's annual trip.
Improved productivity from Dasher and Dancer, who summered at the
Harvard Business School, is anticipated and should take up the slack
with no discernible loss of service. Reduction in reindeer will also
lessen airborne environmental emissions for which the North Pole has
been cited and received unfavorable press.

I am pleased to inform you and yours that Rudolph's role will not be
disturbed. Tradition still counts for something at the North Pole.
Management denies, in the strongest possible language, the earlier leak
that Rudolph's nose got that way not from the cold, but from substance
abuse. Calling Rudolph "a lush who was into the sauce and never did
pull his share of the load" was an unfortunate comment, made by one
of Santa's helpers and taken out of context at a time of year when he
is known to be under executive stress.

As a further restructuring, today's global challenges require the
North Pole to continue to look for better, more competitive steps.

Twelve Days of Christmas Restuctured
-------------------------------------

Effective immediately, the following economizing measures are being
implemented in our "Twelve Days of Christmas" subsidiary:

1) The partridge will be retained, but the pear tree, which never
produced the cash crop forecasted, will be replaced by a plastic
hanging plant, providing considerable savings in maintenance;

2) Two turtle doves represent a redundancy that is simply not cost
effective. In addition, their romance during working hours could not
be condoned. The positions are, therefore, eliminated...doves are
out;

3) The three French hens will remain intact. After all, everyone
loves the French things;

4) The four calling birds will be replaced by an automated voice
mail system, with a call waiting option. An analysis is underway to
determine who the birds have been calling, how often and how long
they talked;

5) The five golden rings have been put on hold by the Board of
Directors. Maintaining a portfolio based on one commodity could
have negative implications for institutional investors. Diversification
into other precious metals, as well as a mix of T-Bills and high technology
stocks, appear to be in order;

6) The six geese-a-laying constitutes a luxury which can no longer
be afforded. It has long been felt that the production rate of one
egg per goose per day was an example of the general decline in
productivity.
Three geese will be let go, and an upgrading in the selection procedure by
personnel will assure management that, from now on, every goose it
gets will be a good one;

7) The seven swans-a-swimming is obviously a number chosen in
better times. The function is primarily decorative. Shrimp ponds
are on order. The current swans will be donated to county jails;

As you know, the eight maids-a-milking concept has been under
heavy scrutiny by the EEOC. A male/female balance in the workforce
is being sought. The more militant maids consider this a dead-end
job with no upward mobility. Automation of the process may permit
the maids to try a-mending, a-mentoring or a-mulching;

9) Nine ladies dancing has always been an odd number. This
function will be phased out as these individuals grow older and
can no longer do the steps;

10) Ten Lords-a-leaping is overkill. The high cost of Lords, plus
the expense of international air travel, prompted the Compensation
Committee to suggest replacing this group with ten out-of-work
congressmen. While leaping ability may be somewhat sacrificed,
the savings are significant as we expect an oversupply of
unemployed congressmen this year;[Ed note: we can only hope]

11) Eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming is a simple
case of an out of date band getting too big. A substitution with a
string quartet, a cutback on new music, and no uniforms, will
produce savings which will drop right to the bottom line;

Overall we can expect a substantial reduction in assorted people,
fowl, animals and related expenses. Though incomplete, studies
indicate that stretching deliveries over twelve days is inefficient.
If we can drop ship by UPS in one day, service levels will be improved.

Regarding the lawsuit filed by the Bar Association seeking expansion
to include the legal profession ("thirteen lawyers-a-suing"), a
decision is pending.

Deeper cuts may be necessary in the future to remain competitive.
Should that happen, the Board will request management to scrutinize
our Snow White Division to see if seven dwarfs ..sleeping, sneezing,
grumping, etc. are in line with our overall projections.

Your Management

Posted by: Physics Geek at 07:45 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 1624 words, total size 10 kb.

All repeats, all the time!
=========================================

Deer Santa,
I wud like a kool toy space ranjur fer Xmas. Iv ben a gud
boy all yeer.
Yer Frend,
BiLLy

Dear Billy,
Nice spelling. You're on your way to a career in lawn care.
How about I send you a fucking book so you can learn to read and
write? I'm giving your older brother the space ranger. At least HE
can spell!
Santa

Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is
peace and joy in the world for everybody!
Love,
Sarah

Dear Sarah,
You're parents smoked pot when they had you, didn't they?
Santa


Dear Santa,
I don't know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I'd like for my
mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do.
Love,
Teddy

Dear Teddy,
Look, your dad's banging the babysitter like a screen door in a
hurricane. Do you think he's gonna give that up to come back to your
frigid mom, who rides his ass constantly? It's time to give up that
dream. Let me get you some nice Legos instead.
Santa


Dear Santa,
I want a new bike, a Playstation, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a
drum kit, a pony and a tuba.
Love,
Damien

Dear Damien,
Who names their kid "Damien" nowadays? I bet you're gay.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots
for your reindeer outside the back door.
Love,
Susan

Dear Susan,
Milk gives me the runs and carrots make the deer fart in my face
when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Leave me a bottle
of scotch.
Santa

Dear Santa,
What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy
making toys?
Your friend,
Thomas

Dear Thomas,
All the toys are made in China. I have a condo in Vegas, where I
spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind
by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses
while losing money at the craps table. Hey,you wanted to know.
Santa

Dear Santa,
Do you see us when we're sleeping, do you really know when we're
awake, like in the song?
Love,
Jessica

Dear Jessica,
Are you really that gullible? Good luck in whatever you do. I'm
skipping your house.
Santa

Dear Santa,
I really really want a puppy this year. Please please please PLEASE
PLEASE could I have one?
Timmy

Timmy,
That whiney begging shit may work with your folks, but that crap
doesn't work with me. You're getting a sweater again.
Santa

Dearest Santa,
We don't have a chimney in our house, how do you get into our house?
Love,
Joey

Joe,
First, stop calling yourself "Joey", that's why you're getting your
ass whipped at school. Second, you don't live in a house, you live in a
low-rent apartment complex. Third, I get inside your pad just like
all the burglars do, through your bedroom window.
Sweet Dreams,
Santa

Posted by: Physics Geek at 07:40 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 531 words, total size 3 kb.

Dear Darling Son and That Person You Married,

Merry Christmas to you, and please don't worry. I'm just fine considering I can't breathe or eat. The important thing is that you have a nice holiday, thousands of miles away from your ailing mother. I've sent along my last ten dollars in this card, which I hope you'll spend on my grandchildren. God knows their mother never buys them anything nice. They look so thin in their pictures, poor babies.

Thank you so much for the birthday flowers, dear boy. I put them in the freezer so they'll stay fresh for my grave. Which reminds me, we buried Grandma last week. I know she died years ago, but I got to yearning for a good funeral so Aunt Berta and I dug her up and had the services all over again. I would have invited you, but I know that woman you live with would have never let you come. I bet she's never even watched that videotape of my hemorrhoid surgery, has she?

Well son, it's time for me to crawl off to bed now. I lost my cane beating off muggers last week, but don't you worry about me. I'm also getting used to the cold since they turned my heat off and am grateful because the frost on my bed numbs the constant pain. Now don't you even think about sending any more money, because I know you need it for those expensive family vacations you take every year.

Give my love to my darling grandbabies and my regards to whatever-her-name-is, the one with the black roots in her hair who stole you screaming from my bosom. Merry Christmas.

Love, MOM

Posted by: Physics Geek at 07:38 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 291 words, total size 2 kb.

Saw another article on the Hardee's Monster Thick Burger, which contained the following blurb:

The Center for Science in the Public Interest, a Washington-based advocate group, dubbed the Thickburgers "food porn," the Monster "the fast-food equivalent of a snuff film."

This print phenomenon is sometimes known as "Hyper-activist Overzealous Reactionary Syndrome w/ Hyperbole-Inflamed Text" (aka HORSHIT)

Posted by: Physics Geek at 07:37 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 70 words, total size 1 kb.

Sleep all the time and lose weight. Now there's a plan that I get behind.

Posted by: Physics Geek at 03:55 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 23 words, total size 1 kb.

Found via Nealz Nuze:

My boyfriend gave me a mood ring. When I'm in a good mood, it makes a green color. When I'm in a bad mood, it makes a red mark on his forehead.

Posted by: Physics Geek at 03:29 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 44 words, total size 1 kb.

And just because I've found a joke to piss off women and people of Asian descent, I give you the following:

A woman was very distraught at the fact that she had not had a date or any sex in quite some time. She was afraid she might have something wrong with her, so she decided to seek the medical expertise of a sex therapist. Her doctor recommended that she see, the well-known Chinese sex therapist, so she went to see him.

Upon entering the examination room, Dr. Chang said, "OK, take off all you crose." The woman did as she was told.

"Now, get down and craw reery, reery fass to odder side of room." Again, the woman did as she was instructed.

Dr. Chang then said, "OK, now craw reery, reery fass back to me." So she did.

Dr. Chang shook his head slowly and said, "Your probrem vewy bad. You haf Ed Zachary Disease. Worse case I ever see. Dat why you not haf sex or dates."

Worried, the woman asked anxiously, "Oh my God, Dr. Chang, what is Ed Zachary Disease?" Dr. Chang looked the woman in the eye and replied, "Ed Zachary Disease is when your face rook Ed Zachary rike your ass."

Posted by: Physics Geek at 01:50 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 212 words, total size 1 kb.