Public Notice to whom it may concern.

You know who you are. My children are teenagers, and if there exist a "Nice" list with either of them on it, it was probably written in Iranian. I'll be going to sleep with a large rifle near by. My roof isn't strong enough for that much weight, and every year you get fatter and fatter. Have you considered SlimFast, Fatso? If I hear any noise on my roof, tomorrow's dinner will include reindeere steaks. The tempeture isn't that cold here, so when you see smoke coming from my chimney, take a hint. You will notice that the last sleigh you lost on my roof is now a chicken coop in the back yard. Nothing personal, but everytime you stuff your size 75 waste into my chimney, you eat everything in my fridge, and leave some Dollar Tree keychain. I suspect that your reindeer are probably carring some NorthPole Anthrax, and I would appreciate that trampy Donner staying away from my billy goat with her foriegn viruses. If she is that loose with my billy goat, she has likely been loose with every other billy goat, if you know what I'm saying. Why do you insist on bothering us? Three years ago, when I shot your rearend with rock salt as you were knocking over the wise men in my Nativity scene? That hay was for the manger, not your glow in the dark freakshow Rudualf! Stay away, is that so much to ask?

So now we know the rest of the story to GRANDMA GOT RUN OVER BY A REINDEER ON CHRISTMAS EVE, Its all your fault Bob NOT LYLES////

I don't know about that, but, when a rear that large and shot full of rocksalt starts jumping around in pain, it explains a lot of sesmic activity.

test

Get,er dooone

LOL that was hilarious!!!!

At least I know there are others out there who will also be glad to see New Years Day in the rearview!

Merry Christmas, Grumpy!

Don't blame me for that. When he last left here, it on foot, both hands holding his "Upper Thigh", where the rock salt hit and hollering things that were not that jolly. Bet you never knew that under that snow white beard was a filthy mouth that would make sailors blush? My chicken pen, er I mean his sleigh, wasn't with him anymore. He must have already attacked Grandma before he messed up my sleep and nearly collapsed my roof under the weight of him. I remember thinking as I watched him making his hobbling way down the county road, "Bet he wished he spent some time on the treadmill this past year."

"I don't care what night it is, get them mangy reindeer off my roof!!"

I'll be happy when its all over too many Christmas parties, my liver hurts.

This may be a true life situation, but you gotta admit you've done little to help the problem. If you weren't so cheap and would take some time to go ahead and replace the rotten wood in the roof on your trailer, he probably wouldn't have broken through it , anyway. AND, then you have to go and put that blue tarp over the whole roof to try to keep the rain out. Any fool knows those things are far from waterproof, and the sunlight dry rots them in just a few weeks. Then you go taking pot shots at him. Yeah, you got some free venison AND the neighbors' prize bull. But they didn't find him until the buzzards appeared a few days later. If he hadn't a dived over that roof ridge, he wouldn't fallen through the big hole the rotten blue tarp was covering up. Bet your wifes eyes really opened when when she heard the crash of him coming through the ceiling and landing in the bed next to her! But did she really have to start screaming so loud because the bed frame broke and dropped the mattress on the floor? Old Nick almost had a heart attack. And, your wife has to be one of the biggest fibbers in the world. Just because you come hauling around the corner with that rusty blunderbuss you claim could take the individual eyes off a fly at four hundred yards is no reason for her to change her voice from screams of ecstasy because her prayers for a real man were answered to squeals of "He's trying to assault me"! No wonder Santa jumped up and dove out the window. Thinking it was a bigger house, the poor old bugger was clinging literally by his fingernails to that window ledge,thinking it was a long way down to the ground. And you, you slimeball, just had to take the duct taped butt of that ol single shot hog gun and bust his knuckles with it. When he hit the ground two feet later, he tripped over that old blown up 390, atubbed his toe, and darned near broke his neck when he fell into your open cesspool. Most people cover those up with some concrete, but no, you gotta use an old piece of sheetrock you stole from that new, fancy housing development down the road. Cheapa$$ builder using 3/8" material to build a mansion townhouse for some stupid section 8 fool to buy. You shoulda knowed that stuff turned to mush the first time it got wet, but you don't care. Now, the poor old guy has a busted set of fingers, a busted foot, stinking clothes from your septic system and you glaring out the window hollering at him. By the time he clawed his way outta that hole in that swamp you claim is your lawn, I don't blame him for running like the devil was right behind him. But, gotta give you credit. The idea of using that plastic bird bath for a mold for a concrete one was almost genius. It shore don't fall over in the wind like mine does. It's nice and heavy. Shame it had to break when Santa hit it head on. Never knew a man could howl like that and cry at the same time from being deneutered by a sudden collision with something in the old cahonies.

And you want to chastise him for limping away and gloat as to how you peppered his butt with buckshot? I don't think so. Besides, you couldn't hit the broad side of a bulls' a$$ with a 2x4 from three feet, much less hit anything with those old shotshells that still have moldy paper hulls. It's a wonder that the primer even blew the wad out of the barrel. But then you do have to admit that though it's illegal to have that sawed-off, it is easy to handle. Lucky the sheriff didn't say something about it when he got there. You say he ran down the road, but word has it you were in your junker trying to get it started so you could run him down, but it's a cryin shame you haven't gotten to the junk yard yet for a new gas cap and your fuel line was frozen up again from the rain getting into the tank. It ain't no wonder your house is in the utlity companies "RED ZONE". Santa should have noticed that on his GPS. Guess he was too busy to check---

Have a Merry Christmas. And remember, there are only two honest men in this world. You, and me. And I'm not so sure about you--

Bob,
I gotta hand it to you. That was very well put. I laughed my a$$ off reading this posting. Every year I tell my youngest (12) year old daughter that my 30-06 Ruger is going to get fat boy. I told her that he won't know that I will be hiding in the haybarn when he comes. She gets mad at me each year also. LOL
Kow Farmer

When I was in the told a bunch of kids when I returned from a deployment that on Christmas eve we were patroling the no fly zone over Bosnia when a blip started flashing on the radar. We attempted to hail it, but the aircraft did not respond. It continued to cross into the no flyzone. We eventually had no choice and fired a missle. The blip disappeared from the screen, and the ship headed to the spot. It was morning when we arrived, and all that we found was slivers of a wooden sleigh, burnt reindeer and made in China labels sticking to broken peices of plastic.

The good thing about Christmas is once the day is over your as far as you can get from the next Chrismas.