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40 Californians shiver uncontrollably, Minnesotans go swimming.

35 Italian cars don’t start.

32 Water freezes.

30 You can see your breath. Politicians begin to worry about the
Homeless.

25 Boston water freezes.
Cat insists on sleeping on your bed with you.

20 Californians weep pitiably, Minnesotans eat ice cream.
You can hear your breath.

15 N.Y. City water freezes.
Politicians begin to talk aobut the homeless.

12 You plan a vacation to Mexico.

10 Too cold to snow

5 You need jumper cables to get the car going.
Cat insists on sleeping in your bed with you.

3 You plan a vacation in Houston.

0 Too cold to skate.
American cars don’t start.

-5 You can cut your breath and use it to build an igloo.

-10 Too cold to think.
Politicians actually do something about the homeless.

-15 Cat insists on sleeping in your pajamas with you.
You need jumper cables to get the driver going.

-20 You plan a 2-week hot bath.

-25 The mighty Monongahela freezes.
Japanese cars don’t start.

-30 Californians disappear, Minnesotans button top button…

Below -30 The kids call home from college.

End of the world…

The District Attorney requested all the robbery victims to
come to the police station to study a lineup of five people. He placed
his suspect at the end of the line. Then he asked each to step forward
and say, “Give me all your money… and I need some change in quarters,
nickels and dimes.” The first four did it right. However, when it was
the last man’s turn to recite, he broke the case by blurting out,
“That isn’t what I said.”

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. Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. 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.
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 harm their macho image.
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.

Long, but really funny

…from a Company in USA.

DATE: October 01, 2003

RE: Christmas Party

I’m happy to inform you that the company Christmas Party will take
place on December 23, starting at noon in the private function room at
the Grill House. There will be a cash bar and plenty of drinks! We’ll
have a small band playing traditional carols…feel free to sing along.
And don’t be surprised if our CEO shows up dressed as Santa Claus! A
Christmas tree will be lit at 1:00pm. Exchange of gifts among employees
can be done at that time; however, no gift should be over $10.00 to make
the giving of gifts easy for everyone’s pockets. This gathering is only
for employees! Our CEO will make a special announcement at that time!

Merry Christmas to you and your family.

Patty
——————————————

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director

TO: All Employees

DATE: October 02, 2003

RE: Holiday 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 any other employees who are not C! hristians or those
still celebrating Reconciliation Day. There will be no Christmas tree
present. No Christmas carols sung. We will have other types of music for
your enjoyment.

Happy now?

Happy Holidays to you and your family.

Patty

————————————

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director

TO: All Employees

DATE: October 03, 2003

RE: Holiday Party

Regarding the note I received from a member of Alco! holics
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, “AA Only”; you wouldn’t be anonymous anymore. How am I
supposed to handle this?

Somebody?

Forget about the gifts exchange, no gifts exchange are allowed
since the union members feel that $10.00 is too much money and executives
believe $10.00 is a little chintzy.

NO GIFTS EXCHANGE WILL BE ALLOWED.

———————————–

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director

To: All Employees

DATE: October 04, 2003

RE: Holiday Party

What a diverse group we are! I had no idea that December 20 begins
the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which forbids eating and drinking
during daylight hours. There goes the party! Seriously, we can appreciate
how a luncheon at this time of year does not accommodate our Muslim
employees’ beliefs. Perhaps the Grill House can hold off on serving your
meal until the end of the party- or else package everything for you to
take it home in little foil doggy baggy. Will that work? Meanwhile, I’ve
arranged for members of Weight Watchers to sit farthest from The dessert
buffet and pregnant women will get the table closest to the restrooms.
Gays are allowed to sit with each other. Lesbians do not have to sit with
Gay men, each will have their own table. Yes, there will be flower
arrangement for the Gay men’! s table. To the person asking permission to
cross dress, no cross-dressing allowed though. We will have booster seats
for short people. Low-fat food will be available for those on a diet. We
cannot control the salt used in the food we suggest for those people with
high blood pressure to taste first. There will be fresh fruits as dessert
for Diabetics, the restaurant cannot supply “No Sugar” desserts. Sorry!

Did I miss anything?!?!?

Patty

—————————————–

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director

TO: All Fucking Employees

DATE: October 05, 2003

RE: The Fucking Holiday Party

Vegetarian pricks I’ve had it with you people!!! We’re going to
keep this party at the Grill House 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 fucking salad bar, including organic
tomatoes. But you know, tomatoes have feelings, too. They scream when you
slice them. I’ve heard them scream. I’m hearing them scream right NOW! I
hope you all have a rotten holiday! Drive drunk and die,

The Bitch from HELL!!!!!!!!

————————————-

FROM: Joan Bishop, Acting Human Resources Director

DATE: October 06, 2003

RE: Patty Lewis and Holiday Party

I’m sure I speak for all of us in wishing Patty Lewis a speedy
recovery and I’ll continue to forward your cards to her. In the meantime,
management has decided to cancel our Holiday Party and give everyone the
afternoon of the 23rd off with full pay.

Happy Holidays

There once was a young person named Little Red Riding Hood who lived on the edge of a large forest full of endangered owls and rare plants that would probably provide a cure for cancer if only someone took the time to study them.
Red Riding Hood lived with a nurture giver whom she sometimes referred to as “mother”, although she didn’t mean to imply by this term that she would have thought less of the person if a close biological link did not in fact exist.
Nor did she intend to denigrate the equal value of nontraditional households, although she was sorry if this was the impression conveyed.
One day her mother asked her to take a basket of organically grown fruit and mineral water to her grandmother’s house.
“But mother, won’t this be stealing work from the unionized people who have struggled for years to earn the right to carry all packages between various people in the woods?”
Red Riding Hood’s mother assured her that she had called the union boss and gotten a special compassionate mission exemption form.
“But mother, aren’t you oppressing me by ordering me to do this?”
Red Riding Hood’s mother pointed out that it was impossible for women to oppress each other, since all women were equally oppressed until all women were free.
“But mother, then shouldn’t you have my brother carry the basket, since he’s an oppressor, and should learn what it’s like to be oppressed?”
And Red Riding Hood’s mother explained that her brother was attending a special rally for animal rights of community.
“But won’t I be oppressing Grandma, by implying that she’s sick and hence unable to independently further her own selfhood?”
But Red Riding Hood’s mother explained that her grandmother wasn’t actually sick or incapacitated or mentally handicapped in any way, although that was not to imply that any of these conditions were inferior to what some people called “health”.
Thus Red Riding Hood felt that she could get behind the idea of delivering the basket to her grandmother, and so she set off.
Many people believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place, but Red Riding Hood knew that this was an irrational fear based on cultural paradigms instilled by a patriarchal society that regarded the natural world as an exploitable resource, and hence believed that natural predators were in fact intolerable competitors.
Other people avoided the woods for fear of thieves and deviants, but Red Riding Hood felt that in a truly classless society all marginalized peoples would be able to “come out” of the woods and be accepted as valid lifestyle role models.
On her way to Grandma’s house, Red Riding Hood passed a woodchopper, and wandered off the path, in order to examine some flowers.
She was startled to find herself standing before a Wolf, who asked her what was in her basket.
Red Riding Hood’s teacher had warned her never to talk to strangers, but she was confident in taking control of her own budding sexuality, and chose to dialogue with the Wolf.
She replied, “I am taking my Grandmother some healthful snacks in a gesture of solidarity.”
The Wolf said, “You know, my dear, it isn’t safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone.”
Red Riding Hood said, “I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop an alternative and yet entirely valid worldview. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would prefer to be on my way.”
Red Riding Hood returned to the main path, and proceeded towards her Grandmother’s house.
But because his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to linear, Western-style thought, the Wolf knew of a quicker route to Grandma’s house.
He burst into the house and ate Grandma, a course of action affirmative of his nature as a predator.
Then, unhampered by rigid, traditionalist gender role notions, he put on Grandma’s nightclothes, crawled under the bedclothes, and awaited developments.
Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said, “Grandma, I have brought you some cruelty free snacks to salute you in your role of wise and nurturing matriarch.”
The Wolf said softly “Come closer, child, so that I might see you.”
Red Riding Hood said, “Goodness! Grandma, what big eyes you have!”
“You forget that I am optically challenged.”
The Wolf could not take any more of these specist slurs, and, in a reaction appropriate for his accustomed milieu, he leaped out of bed, grabbed Little Red Riding Hood, and opened his jaws so wide that she could see her poor Grandmother cowering in his belly.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Red Riding Hood bravely shouted. “You must request my permission before proceeding to a new level of intimacy!”
The Wolf was so startled by this statement that he loosened his grasp on her.
At the same time, the woodchopper burst into the cottage, brandishing an ax.
“Hands off!” cried the woodchopper.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” cried Little Red Riding Hood. “If I let you help me now, I would be expressing a lack of confidence in my own abilities, which would lead to poor self esteem and lower achievement scores on college entrance exams.”
“Last chance, sister! Get your hands off that endangered species! This is an FBI sting!” screamed the woodchopper, and when Little Red Riding Hood nonetheless made a sudden motion, he sliced off her head.
“Thank goodness you got here in time,” said the Wolf. “The brat and her grandmother lured me in here. I thought I was a goner.”
“No, I think I’m the real victim, here,” said the woodchopper. “I’ve been dealing with my anger ever since I saw her picking those protected flowers earlier. And now I’m going to have such a trauma. Do you have any aspirin?”
“Sure,” said the Wolf.
“Thanks.”
“I feel your pain,” said the Wolf, and he patted the woodchopper on his firm, well padded back, gave a little belch, and said “Do you have any Maalox?”



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