Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
I've moved into the apartment below Barbara:
Now if I can just get her to sleepwalk!
Golfing on Christmas Day
Four old-timers were playing their weekly game of golf, and one remarked how nice it would be to wake up on Christmas morning, roll out of bed and without an argument, go directly to the golf course, meet his buddies and play a round.
His buddies all chimed in and said, "Let's do it! We'll make it a priority, figure out a way and meet here early Christmas morning...
Months later, that special morning arrives, and there they all are on the golf course.
The first guy says, "Boy this game cost me a fortune! I bought my wife such a diamond ring that she can't take her eyes off it."
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Number 2 guy say "My wife is at home planning the cruise I gave her. She was up to her eyeballs in brochures."
Number 3 guy says "Well my wife is at home admiring her new car, reading the manual."
They all turned to the last guy in the group who is staring at them like they all had lost their minds.
“I can't believe you all went to such expense for this golf game. I woke up, slapped my wife on the butt and said, Well Babe, Merry Christmas! It's a great morning for either sex or golf and she said 'Take a sweater...'
Clever poem, but it should be Trump arriving with the vaccine. Fauci should be an elf.T’was the Vaccine Before Christmas
by Kevin A. Wilson (with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)
‘Twas some days before Christmas—how many I’m not sure
(The days ran together; everything was a blur).
All the houses were locked down from COVID-19,
With everyone wishing for the promised vaccine.
The children were nestled and sleeping just fine.
They were all tuckered out from their classes online.
And mamma in her kerchief and I in my cap
Had just sanitized our hands and hung up our masks.
The year had been hard. We were due a vacation.
But the thing wanted most? Emergency use authorization.
Then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I assumed it was another 2020 disaster.
I ran to the window and put on my mask,
But what would I see? I was too scared to ask.
The neighbors were quiet and socially distant,
Awaiting the time they’d be COVID resistant.
But despite travel bans, there then did appear
A miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
But this wasn’t Santa. His gut wasn’t paunchy.
It was the trusted presence of Anthony Fauci.
More rapid than eagles, at warp speed they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now Pfizer! Now Sanofi! Now Johnson & Johnson!
“On Moderna! On BioNTech! On Adaptive and Amgen!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now vaccinate, vaccinate, vaccinate all!”
As a virus expelled by a cough or a sneeze
When it meets plexiglass rises up on the breeze;
So up to the house-top the pharma all flew,
With the sleigh full of hope, and Dr. Fauci, too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Fauci came with a bound.
He was dressed in a suit, as was always his way,
And his neatly cut hair was a smart silver-grey.
A chart in one hand, a syringe in the other,
And a medical bag—a gift from his mother.
The wisdom in his eyes and the knowledge in his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
With his reassuring smile covered up with a mask,
His no-nonsense style led him straight to the task.
He sprung to my side as I rolled up my sleeve,
And he stuck in the vaccine as quick as you please.
He flew to the bedroom, gave mamma a shot,
Then vaxxed both our kids without waking them up.
Inoculations complete, he returned to the chimney,
And gave me a pamphlet about what he put in me.
Then raising his finger but not touching his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
“C’mon, team!” he said. “We’ve a great opportunity.
If we vaccinate more we can reach herd immunity!”
Then he yelled back to me, as the sleigh quickly rose,
"I’ll be back in a fortnight for the follow-up dose."
Merry Christmas & to 2020 A Good Night !!
When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his primeI want to come back as:
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I will not, I cannot, I dare not, that challenge assail(complete the last line ... )
I find Mrs Brown's Boys a bit of an acquired taste; how does the humour go in America?Ever had one of those days in the Christmas season? Seniors can handle anything
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I'd pass on that one, I think a visual demonstration would be the only wayBe careful what you wish for
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I wonder if any here like @Eulalia could express the woman's excuse in Spanish?
The Roman Catholic church down the street from my place had this on their lawn for Christmas. I was walking with a friend and they had never seen the T-rex interpretation. I have imprinted this on their mind now.seasonal
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