December 24, 2016

Poem

'Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat
The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat

The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook
It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook

Momma in her teddy, and I in the nude
Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube

When out on the lawn there arose such a cry
That I lost my boner and poor Momma went dry

Up to the window I sprang like an elf
Tore back the shade while she played with herself

The moon on the crest of the snowman we'd built
Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt

When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer

With a fat little driver, half out of his sled
A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head

Sure as I'm speaking, he was as high as a kite
And he yelled to his team, but it didn't sound right

Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz
Either slow down this rig or I'll cut off your nuts

Look out for the lamp post, and don't hit the tree
Quit shaking the sleigh, 'cause I gotta go pee

They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub
Just as Santa leaned out and barfed on my shrub

And then from the roof we heard such a clatter
As each little reindeer now emptied its bladder

I was donning my jacket to cover my ass
When down the chimney Santa came with a crash

His suit was all smelly with perfume galore
He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore

That was some brothel, he said with a smile
The reindeer are pooped, I'll just stay here awhile

He walked to the kitchen, himself poured a drink
Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink

I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee
The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack
But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed

The first thing he found was a pair of false tits
The next was a handgun with a penis that spits

A box filled with condoms was Santa's next find
And a sixpack of panties, the edible kind

A bra without nipples, a penis extension
And several other things that I shouldn't even mention

A cock ring, a G-string, and all types of oil
A dildo so long, it lay in a coil

This stuff ain't for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit
So I'll leave 'em here, and then I'll just split

He filled every stocking and then took his leave
With one tiny butt plug tucked under his sleeve

He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead
Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead

In time he was seated, took the reins of his hitch
Take me home Rudolph, this night's been a bitch!

The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout
The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!

@thejokeyard

Posted by Bittle at 02:45 PM

December 14, 2016

Ron Custom Cars

December 14, 2016:

A friend in Arizona told me of a custom car specialist who creates cartoonish dream vehicles for show and sale.

I asked what his name was. My friend said, "Ron... And he has this incredible mustache."

Well, I almost dropped the twin babies I was holding.

Was my so-called friend telling me Ron -- my Ron...the nation's Ron -- had moved out of New Jersey to [gasp] Arizona?!

This was improbable, but not impossible. No confirmed Ron sightings have been reported since early November.

Could Ron's mustache and penchant for restoring old cars, like his famed Camaro, have drawn him far from his fan and voting base? Who willingly moves to the American Southwest?!

I investigated and, to my delight, recognized the old fart in Arizona as Ron Berry. Berry is definitely a Ron wanna-be in all regards. I mean, Ron would never put a 2275 cc engine in a VW bus. That's ridiculous.

But, Ron would definitely put a mustache logo like the one Berry uses as his emblem on cars he builds.

So don't you believe that this Ron Berry guy is Ron. But trust in his love of cars and mustaches. He's more like Ron than you think.

- Bittle

Posted by Bittle at 02:25 PM

December 06, 2016

Poem

A weather man predicted snow
But he didn’t get it right
So the female anchor on the show
Asked to our delight
"So Bob, where's that 8 inches!
You promised me last night?"

@peculiar-poetry

Posted by Bittle at 01:55 PM

December 01, 2016

Collegiate Ron

December 1, 2016:

After the nation clearly screwed up by not electing Ron as the 45th President of the United States, his alma mater took it upon itself to editorialize.

Lafayette College in Easton, Pennsylvania has obviously showed its presidential preference on the cover of its Fall 2016 edition of Lafayette Magazine, a quarterly for its alumni.

We at Ron4President headquarters agree with the sentiment of Lafayette College. Hopefully, the electorate will correct its massive error in 2020. ¡Viva el Ron!

- Bittle

Posted by Bittle at 11:11 AM