Barbie's Letter To Santa

Barbie's Letter To Santa Dear Santa, Listen you fat little troll, I've been helping you out every year, playing at being the perfect Christmas Present, wearing skimpy bathing suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many tea parties, and I hate to break it to ya Santa, but IT'S DEFINITELY PAY BACK TIME! There had better be some changes around here this Christmas, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me, you won't wanna be around to smell it). So, here's my holiday wish list for 1999, Santa. 1. A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a hooker. How much smaller are these bathing suits gonna get? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and velcro up your rear? 2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. Preferably white silk. What bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to my skin?!? It looks like cellulite! 3. A REAL man... maybe GI JOE. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that wimped-out excuse for a boytoy Ken. And what's with that earring anyway? If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me) anatomically correct. 4. Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct. 5. Breast reduction surgery. I don't care whose arm you have to twist, just get it done. 6. A sports-bra. To wear until I get the surgery. 7. A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How about a systems analyst? Or better yet, a public relations senior account exec! 8. A new, more 90's persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with a miniature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun, fitted with a fake fur coat, can of red spray paint; or "Stop Smoking Barbie," sporting a Nicotrol patch and equipped wth several packs of gum. 9. No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl. 10. Mattel stock options. It's been 37 years-I think I deserve it. Okay Santa, that's it. Considering my valuable contribution to society, I don't think these requests are out of line. If you disagree, then you can find yourself a new girl for next Christmas. It's that simple. Yours Truly, Barbie Ken's Letter To Santa: Dear Santa, I understand that one of my colleagues has petitioned you for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and career changes. In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging remarks were made about me, my ability to please, and some of my fashion choices. I would like to take this opportunity to inform you of some of issues concerning Ms. Barbie, and some of my own needs and desires. First of all, I along with several other collegues feel Barbie DOES NOT deserve preferential treatment - the b#@*&% has everything. I, along with Joe, Jem, Raggedy Ann & Andy, DO NOT have a dreamhouse, Corvette, evening gowns, and in some cases the ablility to change our hair style. I personally have only 3 outfits which I am forced to mix and match at great length. My decision to accessorize my outfits with an earring was my decision and reflects my lifestyle choice. I too would like a change in my career. Have you ever considered "Decorator Ken", "Beauty Salon Ken", or "Out Of Work Actor Ken"? In addition, there are several other avenues which could be considered such as: "Green Lantern Ken", "Circuit Ken", "Bear Ken", "Master Ken". These would more accurately reflect my desires and perhaps open up new markets. And as for Barbie needing bendable arms so she can "push me away," I need bendable knees so I can drive, play sports.... Bendable knees would also be helpful for me in other situations - we've talked about this issue before. In closing, I would like to point out that any further concessions to the blond bimbo will result in action be taken by myself and others. And Barbie can forget about having Joe - he's mine, at least that's what he said last night. Sincerely, Ken Image Source:play-dolls.tumblr.com Thanks For Visiting

Bonus: Rankin/Bass Trivia

A collection of trivia and quizzes from Rankin/Bass and a chronological release date list of those stop-motion holiday specials. Various Fun Quizzes Pass This Rankin/Bass Christmas Specials Quiz | BuzzFeed Have a Holly Jolly Christmas With This Rankin/Bass Quiz! | HowStuffWorks (Archived) Rudolph And The Rankin-Bass Holiday Empire: Facts And Trivia | GroovyHistory (Archived) Release Date 1964 - Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1967 - The Cricket on the Hearth        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1967 - Mad, Mad Monsters        Rankin/Bass - Halloween Television Special 1968 - The Little Drummer Boy        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1968 - The Mouse on the Mayflower        Rankin/Bass - Thanksgiving Television Special 1969 - Frosty the Snowman        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1970 - Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1971 - Here Comes Peter Cottontail        Rankin/Bass - Easter Television Special 1972 - Mad, Mad, Mad Monsters        Rankin/Bass - Halloween Television Special 1972 - The Enchanted World of Danny Kaye: The Emperor's New Clothes        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1972 - Jack O'Lantern        Rankin/Bass - Halloween Television Special 1974 - 'Twas the Night Before Christmas        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1974 - The Little Drummer Boy, Book II        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1974 - The Year Without a Santa Claus        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1976 - The First Easter Rabbit        Rankin/Bass - Easter Television Special 1976 - Frosty's Winter Wonderland        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1976 - Rudolph's Shiny New Year        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1977 - The Easter Bunny Is Comin' to Town        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1977 - Nestor, the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1978 - The Stingiest Man in Town        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1979 - Rudolph and Frosty's Christmas in July        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1979 - Jack Frost        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1980 - Pinocchio's Christmas        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1981 - The Leprechaun's Christmas Gold        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 1985 - The Life & Adventures of Santa Claus        Rankin/Bass - Television Special 2001 - Santa Baby        Rankin/Bass - Television Special Sources:Wiki | Fandom & here Thanks For Visiting

T'was Christmas Biker Style

Various biker versions of the poem for National Leon Day. Which is celebrated on June 25 every year, and marks the exact halfway point in the year to Christmas Day. Twas the night before Christmas, and out in the garage. Two Harley's were sitting...... a V Twin montage. But all of the streets they were covered with snow.... Not a safe place to ride, not a spot on the road. The tenders were plugged in and humming away. Keeping batteries charged on that cold winter day. The chrome was all shiny, the paint bright and clean, But the weather outside, it was nasty and mean. Then out in the yard I heard such a sound, But how can that be, there was no-one around? Then out in the driveway was a thunderous roar, The unmistakable sound of a V Twin, big bore. The driver was plump dressed in leather and black. A long beard of white and a big leather sack. He went to the house and walked right through the door, Leaving gifts by the tree and gifts on the floor. A helmet and shield and a new set of lights, to make the ride safe on those warm summer nights. A new set of pipes just to make the bike sing. Chrome license plate cover, a bit of new bling. Then back to his Bagger, old Biker Clause ran. He fired it up and lifted the stand. And I heard him exclaim as he roared out of sight. Safe riding to all, and to all a good night. Adapted from: Southern Biker Magazine 2018 More Versions Twas the Night Before Christmas" for Bikers (Religious Theme} | SpyderLovers       — Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house, Motorcycles were stored and quiet as a mouse Here in the north where the cold ... ‘Twas The Night Before Sturgis | BeantownBaggers       — ‘Twas the night before Sturgis And all through the shop Not a tool was in use Not even a mop The baggers were washed, waxed and buffed shiny with care Packed full with snacks for... A Motorcycle Christmas Poem | Twin Valley Riders       — So here it is: Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the garages, not a motorcycle was rumbling,. except for Santa Claus's Twas the Night Before Christmas (Biker Version) | VegaBondness       — Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the Garage, Not a creature was stirring – not even the Dodge CMG’s Christmas Poem | Canada Motor Guide       — TWAS THE NIGHT before Christmas, and all down the street not a biker was stirring, since there was no heat. Firewood was stacked by the chimneys with care in the hope that some flames... Christmas Biker Style Poem | A.M.E. Riders       — ‘Twas the night before Christmas, And not until Spring, Would an engine be running, not even a Wing. The bikes are all sleeping, They’re covered ... Twas the night before Christmas, H-D | Harley Davidson Forums       — And I in my doo-rag, bike jacket and boots, Out shoveling snow, and dreaming of scoots. Then from the horizon there came such a clatter, My shovel I dropped, ... Biker 'Twas the night before Xmas | Harley Davidson Forums       — Twas the night before Christmas, Harley Style | Harley Davidson Forums       — Bonus: 'TWAS The Night Before Raceday | AlchemistMatt       — (This was originally in Cycle News way back in the early '70's. )   Thanks For Visiting

Young Soldier on Christmas Eve

Soldiers marching, banging the drum Tis the season to enjoy and have fun.

Interactive "Christmas" Trivia

Let's play a little game and see how much you know

The Most Beautiful Thing

The sides of the path were covered with rings of white snow.  But, in the center its whiteness was crushed and churned into a foaming brown by the tramp, tramp of hundreds of hurrying feet.  It was the day before Christmas. People rushed up and down the path carrying armloads of bundles.  They laughed and called to each other as they pushed their way through the crowds. Above the path, the long arms of an ancient tree reached upward to the sky.  It swayed and moaned as a strong wind grasped its branches, and bent them toward the earth.  Down below a haughty laugh sounded, and a lovely fir tree stretched and preened its thick green branches, sending a fine spray of snow shimmering downward to the ground. “I should think,” said the fir, in a high smug voice, “that you’d try a little harder to stand still.  Goodness knows you’re ugly enough with the leaves you’ve already lost.  If you move around any more, you’ll be quite bare.” “I know,” answered the old tree.  “Everything has put on its most beautiful clothes for the celebration of the birth of Christ.  Even from here I can see the decorations shining from each street corner. And yesterday some men came and put the brightest, loveliest lights on every tree along the path—except me, of course.”  He sighed softly, and a flake of snow melted in the form of a teardrop and ran down his gnarled trunk. “Oh, indeed!  And did you expect they’d put lights upon you so your ugliness would stand out even more?” smirked the fir. “I guess you’re right,” replied the old tree in a sad voice.  “If there were only somewhere I could hide until after the celebrations are over, but here I stand…the only ugly thing among all this beauty. If they would only come and chop me down,” and he sighed sorrowfully. “Well, I don’t wish you any Ill will,” replied the fir, “but you are an eyesore.  Perhaps it would be better for us all if they came and chopped you down.”  Once again he stretched his lovely thick branches.  “You might try to hold onto those three small leaves you still have.  At least you wouldn’t be completely bare.” “Oh, I’ve tried so hard,” cried the old tree.  “Each fall I say to myself, ‘this year I won’t give up a single leaf, no matter what the cause’, but someone always comes along who seems to need them more than I,” and he sighed once again. “I told you not to give away so many to that dirty little paper boy,” said the fir.  “Why you even lowered your branches a little, so that he could reach them.  You can’t say I didn’t warn you then.” “Yes, you did at that,” the old tree replied.  “But they made him so happy.  I heard him say he would pick some for his invalid mother.” “Oh they all had good causes,” mocked the fir.  “That young girl, for instance, colored leaves for her party, indeed!  They were your leaves!” “She took a lot, didn’t she?” said the old tree, and he seemed to smile. Just then a cold wind blew down the path and a tiny brown bird fell to the ground at the foot of the old tree and lay there shivering, too cold to lift its wings.  The old tree looked down in pity, and then quickly he let go of his last three leaves.  The golden leaves fluttered down and settled softly over the shivering little bird, and it lay there quietly under the warmth of them. “Now you’ve done it!” shrieked the fir.  “You’ve given away every single leaf!  Christmas morning you’ll make our path the ugliest sight in the whole city!” The old tree said nothing.  Instead, he stretched out his branches to gather what snowflakes he could that they might not fall on the tiny bird. The young fir turned away in anger, and it was then he noticed a painter sitting quietly a few feet from the path, intent upon his long brushes and his canvas.  His clothes were old and tattered, and his face wore a sad expression.  He was thinking of his loved ones and the empty, cheerless Christmas morning they would face, for he had sold not a single painting in the last few months. But the little tree didn’t see this.  Instead, he turned his back to the old tree and said in a haughty voice, “At least keep those bare branches as far away from me as possible.  I’m being painted and your hideousness will mar the background.” “I’ll try,” replied the old tree.  And he raised his branches as high as possible. It was almost dark when the painter picked up his easel and left.  And the little fir was tired and cross from all his preening and posing. Christmas morning he awoke late, and as he proudly shook away the snow from his lovely branches, he was amazed to see a huge crowd of people surrounding the old tree, ah-ing and oh-ing as they stood back and gazed upward.  And even those hurrying along the path had to stop for a moment to sigh before they went on. “Whatever could it be?” thought the haughty fir, and he too looked up to see if perhaps the top of the old tree had been broken off during the night. Just then a paper blew away from the hands of an enraptured newsboy and sailed straight into the young fir.  The fir gasped in amazement, for there on the front page was a picture of the painter holding his painting of a great white tree whose leafless branches, laden with snow, stretched upward into the sky.  While below lay a tiny brown bird almost covered by three golden leaves.  And beneath the picture were the words, “The Most Beautiful Thing Is That Which Hath Given All.” The young fir quietly bowed its head beneath the great beauty of the humble old tree. Adapted from: ChristmasStories.org Thanks For Visiting