Sleigh Jokes / Recent Jokes

1. Instead of milk and cookies, leave him a salad and a note
explaining that you think he could stand to lose a few pounds.
2. While he's in the house, go find his sleigh and write him
a speeding ticket.
3. Leave him a note explaining that you've gone away for the
holidays. Ask if he would mind watering your plants.
4. While he's in the house, replace all his reindeer with exact
replicas. Then wait and see what happens when he tries to get
them to fly.
5. Keep an angry bull in your living room. If you think a bull
goes crazy when he sees a little red cape, wait until he sees
that big, red Santa suit!
6. Build an army of mean-looking snowmen on the roof, holding
signs that say "We hate Christmas" and "Go away Santa."
7. Leave a note by the telephone telling Santa that Mrs. Claus
called and wanted to remind him to pick up some milk and a loaf
of bread on his way home.
8. Throw a more...

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the ship
Not a circuit was buzzing, not one microchip:
The phasers were hung in the armory securely,
In hope that no alien would get up that early.
The crewmen were nestled all snug in their bunks
(Except for the few who were partying drunks)
And Picard in his nightshirt, and Bev in her lace,
Had just settled down for a neat face to face...
When out in the hall there arose such a racket,
That we leapt from our beds, pulling on pant and jacket.
Away to the lifts we all shot like a gun,
Leapt into the turbos and shouted "Deck One!"
The bridge red-alert lights, which flashed through the din,
Gave a lustre of Hades to objects within.
When, what on the viewscreen, our eyes should behold,
But a weird kind of sleigh, and some guy who looked old.
But the glint in his eyes was so strange and askew,
That we knew in a moment it had to be Q.
His sleigh grew much more...

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the ship
Not a circuit was buzzing, not one microchip;
The phasers were hung in the armoury securely,
In hope that no alien would get up that early.
The crewmen were nestled all snug in their bunks
(Except for the few who were partying drunks);
And Picard in his nightshirt, and Bev in her lace,
Had just settled down for a neat face to face...
When out in the hall there arose such a racket,
That we leapt from our beds, pulling on pant and jacket.
Away to the lifts we all shot like a gun,
Leapt into the cars and yelled loudly "Deck One!"
The bridge red-alert lights, which flashed through the din,
Gave a lustre of Hades to objects within.
When, what on the viewscreen, our eyes should behold,
But a weird kind of sleigh, and some guy who looked old.
But the glint in his eyes was so strange and askew,
That we knew in a moment it had to be Q.
His sleigh grew more...

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the skies,
Air defences were up, with electronic eyes. Combat pilots were nestled in ready-room beds,
As enemy silhouettes danced in their heads.
Every jet on the apron, each SAM in its tube,
Was triply-redundant, linked to the Blue Cube,
And ELINT and AWACS gave coverage so dense
That nothing that flew could slip through our defence.
When out of the klaxon arose such a clatter
I dashed to the screen to see what was the matter;
I increased the gain and then, quick as a flash,
Fine-adjusted the filters to damp out the hash.
And there found the source of the warning we'd heeded:
An incoming blip, by eight escorts preceded.
"Alert status red!" went the word down the wire,
As we gave every system the codes that meant "FIRE!"
On Aegis! Up Patriot, Phalanx and Hawk!
And scramble our fighters--let's send the whole flock!
Launch decoys and more...

A new contract for Santa has finally been negotiated. Please read the following carefully.
I regret to inform you that, effective immediately, I will no longer be able to serve the southern United States on Christmas Eve. Due to the overwhelming current population of the Earth, my contract was renegotiated by North American Fairies and Elves Local 209. I now serve only certain areas of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, and Michigan. As part of the new and better contract I also get longer breaks for milk and cookies. However, I'm certain that your children will be in good hands with your local replacement who happens to be my third cousin, Bubba Claus. His side of the family is from the South Pole. He shares my goal of delivering toys to all the good boys and girls; however, there are a few differences between us.
1. There is no danger of a Grinch stealing your presents from Bubba Claus. He has a gun rack on his sleigh and bumper sticker that reads:' 'These toys insured by more...

1. No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer which only Santa has ever seen.
2. There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - 378 million according to Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.
3. Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump more...

You think you got it bad? All night long I deal with soot in the chimneys, smelly socks, cross dogs, getting shot at, mistaken for a stork, driving all night in the snow - damn near got killed by a 747. Mrs. Clause is pissed off cause I got in so late.
Donner and Blitzen and Rudolph got the "runs" over Albuquerque and you should see my suit. The freaking elves won't clean the sleigh unless I pay them double time.
I'm so sick of cookies and milk, I could vomit. The only highball I had all night was when I slipped getting out of my sleigh
My prostate is giving me hell. I peed my pants at 20,000 feet and froze my butt to the seat. I'm allergic to pine needles. I itch all over and I think my hemorrhoids are back.
HO! HO! HO! A very MERRY CHRISTMAS,...NOT! Santa