Take 2 asprin and post in the morning
This is a discussion on Christmas Gifts? within the Off Topic & Humor Discussion forums, part of the The Back Porch category; On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree. Such a thoughtful gift, she knows how ...
On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree. Such a thoughtful gift, she knows how much I love fruit. She also knows my building's pretty strict about pets so the bird threw me a little. But he is a cute little guy.
On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me two turtle doves. Wow, she's really into the avian theme this year. Um, thank you? I guess I'll just put them in the kitchen with the partridge and the pear tree, which suddenly seems a lot bigger than it did yesterday.
On the third and fourth days of Christmas, she gave me three French hens and four calling birds. Funny, I don't remember telling her my dream was to one day open a chapter of the Audubon Society. You know what would have been nice? Some birdseed. I'm out of saltines and things are starting to get weird in here.
On the fifth day of Christmas, she gave me five golden rings. See, now that's a nice gift. A nice, practical gift. A little on the feminine side, but I'll take it.
Six geese a-laying. Hmm, that's so weird because I was just telling someone that I could use some MORE BIRDS. Do you have any idea how much (BAD WORD) six geese generate in a single day? Literally, pounds. Pounds of green, grassy (poop). And in case you're curious, all six of them have been a-laying since they got here. There are no less than 75 enormous eggs in my apartment right now. And as a side note, I just tried to make an omelet out of one of them and almost ralphed. Very gamy.
On the seventh day of Christmas: Guess what I signed for this morning when the UPS guy rang my doorbell? Seven swans a-swimming. True story. So no more baths for me, I guess. Thanks for that. These are terrible gifts! Terrible, confusing gifts. Do you know how big a swan is? Or how mean? Oh, and guess who swans don't get along with? Geese, turtle doves, French hens, calling birds and partridges. Glad you did your homework there. There's more bird-on-bird violence going on right now than I care to mention.
I'd like to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one in case you ordered these eight maids a-milking online and there was some confusion, but just to clarify, there are eight middle-aged women wearing bonnets in my apartment right now. And they each brought a cow. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?
Big day today. Not only did I receive the unexpected gift of nine ladies dancing, I also got a nice little note from my landlord. He covered all kinds of stuff, but in a nutshell it was about excessive dancing, illegal livestock, unnatural amounts of bird feces, and me not living here anymore. Big day.
Ten lords a-leaping! Yes they are. WHY?? Why are you doing this to me? You're sick! I loved you so much and you destroyed it. You destroyed everything.
Days 11 & 12
These final days have come and gone in a bewildering fog. I remember drummers. Pipers. Lots of them. I haven't slept or washed in quite some time. Food is scarce, the fighting, fierce. I killed a lord today! Snatched him right out of the air and killed him with my bare hands. Now he doesn't leap anymore. I used his leotard as a net to trap one of the swans. Do you all hear me? Do you see what I've done? What I am capable of!! No more eye contact with the king, do you understand? Or I will end you! I will end you all right here and now!! Now one of you fetch me a pear. The king needs something sweet.
Cape Locum Et Fac Vestigium
Take 2 asprin and post in the morning
At least you got something.
It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.
The 12 Days of Christmas Letter
My dearest darling Edward, Dec 25
What a wonderful surprise has just greeted me! That sweet partridge, in that lovely little pear-tree; what an enchanting, romantic, poetic present! Bless you, and thank you.
Your deeply loving Emily.
Beloved Edward, Dec 26
The two turtle-doves arrived this morning, and are cooing away in the pear-tree as I write. I'm so touched and grateful!
With undying love, as always, Emily.
My darling Edward, Dec 27
You do think of the most original presents! Who ever thought of sending anybody three French hens? Do they really come all the way from France? It's a pity we have no chicken coops, but I expect we'll find some. Anyway, thank you so much; they're lovely.
Your devoted Emily.
Dearest Edward, Dec 28
What a surprise! Four calling birds arrived this morning. They are very sweet, even if they do call rather loudly - they make telephoning almost impossible - but I expect they'll calm down when they get used to their new home. Anyway, I'm very grateful, of course I am.
Love from Emily.
Dearest Edward, Dec 29
The mailman has just delivered five most beautiful gold rings, one for each finger, and all fitting perfectly! A really lovely present! Lovelier, in a way, than birds, which do take rather a lot of looking after. The four that arrived yesterday are still making a terrible row, and I'm afraid none of us got much sleep last night. Mother says she wants to use the rings to "wring" their necks. Mother has such a sense of humor. This time she's only joking, I think, but I do know what she means. Still, I love the rings.
Bless you, Emily.
Dear Edward, Dec 30
Whatever I expected to find when I opened the front door this morning, it certainly wasn't six socking great geese laying eggs all over the porch. Frankly, I rather hoped that you had stopped sending me birds. We have no room for them, and they've already ruined the croquet lawn. I know you meant well, but let's call a halt, shall we?
Edward, Dec 31
I thought I said NO MORE BIRDS. This morning I woke up to find no more than seven swans, all trying to get into our tiny goldfish pond. I'd rather not think what's happened to the goldfish. The whole house seems to be full of birds, to say nothing of what they leave behind them, so please, please, stop! Your Emily.
Frankly, I prefer the birds. What am I to do with eight milkmaids? And their cows! Is this some kind of a joke? If so, I'm afraid I don't find it very amusing.
Look here, Edward, Jan 2
This has gone far enough. You say you're sending me nine ladies dancing. All I can say is, judging from the way they dance, they're certainly not ladies. The village just isn't accustomed to seeing a regiment of shameless viragos, with nothing on but their lipstick, cavorting round the green, and it's Mother and I who get the blame. If you value our friendship, which I do (less and less), kindly stop this ridiculous behavior at once!
As I write this letter, ten disgusting old men are prancing up and down all over what used to be the garden, before the geese and the swans and the cows got at it. And several of them, I have just noticed, are taking inexcusable liberties with the milkmaids. Meanwhile the neighbors are trying to have us evicted. I shall never speak to you again.
This is the last straw! You know I detest bagpipes! The place has now become something between a menagerie and a madhouse, and a man from the council has just declared it unfit for habitation. At least Mother has been spared this last outrage; they took her away yesterday afternoon in an ambulance. I hope you're satisfied.
Our client, Miss Emily Wilbraham, instructs me to inform you that with the arrival on her premises at 7:30 this morning of the entire percussion section of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and several of their friends, she has no course left open to her but to seek an injunction to prevent you importuning her further. I am making arrangements for the return of much assorted livestock.
I am, Sir, yours faithfully,
E. Grinch, Attorney at law.
An armed society is a polite society
Oops. Guess I better make a quick call and cancel the 12 days of presents I am having shipped to hubby.... at work.
A woman must not depend on protection by men. A woman must learn to protect herself.
Susan B. Anthony
A armed society is a polite society. Manners are good when one has to back it up with his life.
Day 1 – Dinner: Partridge in pear sauce
Day 2 – Roast turtle doves (alas they are so small)
Day 3 – Invited the neighbors for roast chicken
Day 4 – The calling birds were good but didn’t really fill me up
Day 5 – Now that’s the stuff, jewelry!
Day 6 – Invited the neighborhoods for roast goose. They stayed for breakfast. We had eggs.
Day 7 – Invited the town. Do you know how many people even 1 swan can feed? We had a lot of fun trying to catch them.
Day 8 – Those ladies are making a tidy profit for me selling their milk and cheese, but as soon as those cows stop giving milk, we’re having steak, and the ladies will have to look for work elsewhere!
Day 9 – I have had a lot of leftovers lately so I convinced the ladies to quit dancing and eat up. They were looking a bit too skinny to me.
Day 10 – I convinced the leaping lords to team up with the dancing ladies and to head out on a tour. The royalties should be substantial.
Day 11 – I sent the drummers after the lords and ladies. I think they may expand their repertoire to doing some clogging, native dancing, and such.
Day 12 – Now we’re talking real residuals with the ladies, lords, drummers, and now pipers. They were all that was needed for a dynamite act.
I think I’ll just sit back, eat leftovers, count my money, admire my jewelry, and drink some tea . . . maybe a nap later in the afternoon. Ahhh, what a life.
Honey, I think we we could retire if it weren't for the government taxes. We have to be careful how much we make!
I know Whose I am. I know where I'm going. I know the job I'm to do while I'm here. I am an ambassador. This is not my home.
Evil prospers when good people to do nothing. Please don't turn your back. ACT!