April 17, 2014 |
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Ronda: "back to your shelf my little puppets….you shall live and dance and sing and be alive another day….."Ah... and this Christmas Day has me remembering when Marion was the puppet master, and we his little Marionettes. Merry Xmas, kemo sabe.
I think Cleo has a jalapeno under her dentures! or rock salt in her sneakers. *where's the talk of milk. I always thought it was supposed to be milk and cookies left out for santa, I guess the milk is good for his ulcer.
(darned shelf gives me hemorrhoids and Charley Horses!)
They had Laugh-in at the Ozarks....well... well...and what planet are you from, Cleo? tange...be a good lad and pass another cookie, please....with sugar on it...yes...I want a sugar cookie.....multi, I know this is from the other blog...but I loved your idea about gifting presents.....pass another cookie...please....nota...I see nota....nota...I see...nota st. nick...nota snowman....nota reindeer...but dear old nota....Hey. nota....back to your shelf my little puppets....you shall live and dance and sing and be alive another day.....
Don't call me cookie and I won't call you cake! Anyone remember Laugh-in, and the joke that went something like: "it must be Christmas because everywhere you look you see bearded men holding pot and going ho, ho, ho".
I've found that leaving cookies does cause the arrival of jolly old men. Since dads have to eat all the cookies left out, their (and my own) waistlines begin approaching the dimensions of St. Nick's.
I used to until I found out he liked Jack and Coke better.
Hey Cleo,Now don't be DISin' my girl, Ronda. Tho' that planet she's from has an atmosphere more turbulent than most, it's one of the warmest in the cosmos. We should all be so fortunate in offsetting the turbulence in our lives with such warmth. So, good fortune to you, cookie.,;-)
Hey, I learned the secret to non-crumbly cookies.Can't say because it's secret, but I can hint...(don't grease your gluten.)
Bleep Ronda, go back to the planet you came from. I grew up in the Ozarks where we barely had enough food to feed ourselves. If asked, I'm sure my Grandmother, who raised me, would have responded, "If Santa can afford to fly around the world with all those toys, he can ruddy well feed himself." Yes, we did talk like that in the Ozarks in the fifties, so I don't want to hear nary a word otherwise. Hear me? Probably not.
Hey don't forget to have the kids put out food for the reindeer. (oatmeal with some glitter)They sent some home from school when My son was in kdg. He went to bed.About 2 am, I saw that baggy of oatmeal, and knew I was dead meat if he remebered it, so I woke him up, and drug home 99% asleep out into the bitter cold. He poured the food on the ground, I grabbed him up and back inside. Wondering if he would remeber doing this at all, I had him hold up the empty baggy and I took a picture of him in his jammies.Sure enough, he had NO memory of doing it.He just loves that picture! And he had a great story to tell at school. His teacher loved it.
Making them right now. Hope he's the only one that breaks in on this clear night.
Yes, and a beer since that is Australian tradition.
I leave cookies for... Ronda.( ... and she leaves nary a crumb. )
Come on old Chris Kringle,Down the milkyway......I Still Believe and so should you labmonkey
Dear Editor:Santa Claus is a fraudulent myth...And there will be no clockmaker to save you now Lawrence!
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