Holiday Humor Quotes
Quotes tagged as "holiday-humor"
Showing 1-3 of 3
“It was Lorraine in her nightie and Mo in his cap. They'd just settled their brains for a long winter's nap in front of the television. When out in the lot there arose such a clatter, they sprang from their recliners to see what was the matter. Away to the window they flew like a flash, tore open the blinds and threw up the sash. And what to their wondering eyes should appear, but Stephanie Plum and yet another of her cars burning front to rear.”
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“The Christmas Crasher or Merry Crisis & Happy New Fear
(The Yule-Get-Yours Scapegoat)
A Poem by Stewart Stafford
A malevolent sprite in our living room,
A mouldy Púca in the Christmas tree,
Bauble-gleam eyes in festive branches,
A sulphur stink while we watch TV.
Swallowing a window candle flame;
A fire-eater’s trick to no applause,
Season’s sweets wolfed down—
Even wrappers, devoured without pause.
A fridge raid’s boozy-woozy walk,
A true eggnog nuisance — every inch,
Crash — a muffled, 'Timber! God rest ya!'
So loud, we thought it was The Grinch!
My parents demanded it come out:
"A wrecked tree and hangover’s enough!"
It pleaded against eviction in the cold,
Squatter’s rights for lack of sterner stuff!
Seated at the Xmas dinner table,
Tossing scraps to our strange ‘pet’ below,
Foghorn burp aria, a puked tinsel encore,
Pine-needle toothpick snores in fake snow.
© 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
―
(The Yule-Get-Yours Scapegoat)
A Poem by Stewart Stafford
A malevolent sprite in our living room,
A mouldy Púca in the Christmas tree,
Bauble-gleam eyes in festive branches,
A sulphur stink while we watch TV.
Swallowing a window candle flame;
A fire-eater’s trick to no applause,
Season’s sweets wolfed down—
Even wrappers, devoured without pause.
A fridge raid’s boozy-woozy walk,
A true eggnog nuisance — every inch,
Crash — a muffled, 'Timber! God rest ya!'
So loud, we thought it was The Grinch!
My parents demanded it come out:
"A wrecked tree and hangover’s enough!"
It pleaded against eviction in the cold,
Squatter’s rights for lack of sterner stuff!
Seated at the Xmas dinner table,
Tossing scraps to our strange ‘pet’ below,
Foghorn burp aria, a puked tinsel encore,
Pine-needle toothpick snores in fake snow.
© 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
―
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