Ostomy Memories of Xmas Over With

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HenryM

IT’S OVER, THANK GOODNESS!  The shopping, the avalanche of ads for products, the crowds, the lack of parking spaces, the catalogs clogging the mailbox, the sappy music, the constant parade of UPS and Fed Ex trucks up and down the street, the neighbor’s house decorated to resemble a drunken redneck Disney World, it’s finally over.  Now we can get back to the true meaning of Xmas:  the birth of Santa.  I think about what the scene must have been like when he got back to his North Pole home after his late-night sleigh ride.  While the staff busy themselves getting the reindeer put up and fed and bedded down, Mrs. Claus is pouring St. Nick some hot tea and passing him a warm bowl of cream of wheat.  “What a night,” Santa exclaims, some cereal dripping into his beard.  “Everything was going okay until we passed over Mar-a-Lago when Blitzen took a dump and that guy Trump screamed that I was a Communist.”  Suddenly, all the elves burst into the room and started singing ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow’ until a loud crash was heard outside as another chunk of Santa’s glacier collapsed into the ocean.  “If this keeps up, we may have to move to Buffalo,” Santa moaned.  “Oh good,“ one of the elves exulted, “I love chicken wings.”  All the elves cheered heartily.  

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TerryLT

Thanks Henry,I needed a laugh today!

Terry

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