White House Valentine Poems

  • After years of indiscretion,
    at last I’ve come to learn,
    that I must send this Valentine,
    To Whom it May Concern.
  • Valentine, I think you’re great,
    a Chief Executive who can delegate.
    And you warm this First Lady’s heart,
    by having interns do the unpleasant part.
  • On most every day,
    I like McDonald’s fries.
    On Valentine’s Day,
    I prefer Monica’s thighs — Super Sized!
  • Will you deny, Valentine?
  • Hey, Big Creep, on Valentine’s Day,
    we’ll play Marilyn and JFK.
    Just make sure that Hillary’s gone,
    ’cause you get me interned on!

  • How do I love thee?
    Let me count the entries in the visitors’ log.
  • Monica, Monica, quiet young mouse
    — taking her Bill to the floor of the House.
  • Hi there! Happy Valentine’s day!
    Sorry to serve your subpoena this way.
  • Roses are red,
    then they turn gray,
    My heart goes pitter-pat
    when you wear that beret.
  • Shall I compare thee to my high school drama teacher?
  • Twinkle, twinkle, Kenneth Starr,
    I talked to Vernon in the car.
    I promised him my lips are sealed,
    but I’ll change my mind, for a sweet book deal.
  • As soon as I’m finished bombing Iraq,
    I’d like to get you in the sack.
  • Will you,on the night in question of February 14th,
    be my Valentine?
  • Violets are blue,
    roses are thorny.
    All hell breaks loose,
    when Bubba gets horny.
  • I’ll bomb England, I’ll bomb France,
    If you’ll remove my underpants.

Summer Shoe Pledge

Please raise your big toes and repeat after me:

As a member of the Cute Girl Sisterhood, I pledge to follow the rules when I wear sandals and other open-toe shoes.

  • I promise to always wear sandals that fit.
  • My toes will not hang over and touch the ground, nor will my heels spill over the backs. And the sides and tops of my feet will not pudge out between the straps.
  • I will go polish-free or vow to keep the polish fresh, intact and chip-free. I will not cheat and just touch up my big toe.
  • I will sand down any mounds of skin before they turn hard and yellow.
  • I will shave the hairs off my big toe.
  • I won’t wear pantyhose even if my misinformed girlfriend, coworker, mother, sister tells me the toe seam really will stay under my toes if I tuck it the real good. (NOTE: Sandalfoot pantyhose are acceptable :-))
  • If a strap breaks, I won’t duct-tape, pin, glue or tuck it back into place hoping it will stay put. I will get my shoe fixed or toss it.
  • I will not live in corn denial, rather I will lean on my good friend Dr. Scholls if my feet need him.
  • I will resist the urge to buy jelly shoes at Payless for the low, low price of $4.99 even if my feet are small enough to fit into the kids’ sizes. This is out of concern for my safety, and the safety of others. No one can walk properly when standing in a pool of sweat and I would hate to take someone down with me as I fall and break my ankle.
  • I will take my toe ring off toward the end of the day if my toes swell and begin to look like Vienna sausages.
  • If I have been privvy to the magic that is Foot Soup, I will share that knowledge and experience with the non-initiated.
  • I will be brutally honest with my girlfriend/sister/coworker when she asks me if her feet are too ugly to wear sandals. Someone has to tell her that her toes are as long as my fingers and no sandal makes creepy feet look good.

‘Twas the Night Before Solstice

by James Finn Garner

‘Twas the night before solstice and all through the co-op
Not a creature was messing the calm status quo up.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
Dreaming of lentils and warm whole-grain breads.

We’d welcomed the winter that day after school
By dancing and drumming and burning the Yule,
A more meaningful gesture to honor the planet
Than buying more trinkets for Mom or Aunt Janet,

Or choosing a tree just to murder and stump it
And dress it all up like a seasonal strumpet.
My lifemate and I, having turned down the heat,
Slipped under the covers for a well-deserved sleep,

When from out on the lawn there came such a roar
I fell from my futon and rolled to the floor.
I crawled to the window and pulled back the latch,
And muttered, “Aw, where is that Neighborhood Watch?”

I saw there below through the murk of the night
A sleigh and eight reindeer of nonstandard height.
At the reins of that sleigh sat a mean-hearted knave
Who treated each deer like his personal slave.

I’d seen him before in some ads for car loans,
Plus fast food and soft drinks and cellular phones.
He must have cashed in from his mercantile chores,
Since self-satisfaction just oozed from his pores.

He called each by name, as if he were right
To treat them like humans, entrenching his might:
“Now Donder, now Blitzen,” and other such aliases,
Showing his true Eurocentrical biases.

With a snap of his fingers away they all flew,
Like lumberjacks served up a plate of tofu.
Up to the rooftop they carried the sleigh
(The holes in the shingles are there to this day).

Out bounded the man, who sent straight to the flue.
I knew in an instant just what I should do.
After donning my slippers, downstairs did I dash
to see this trespasser emerge from the ash.

His clothes were all covered with soot, but of course,
From our wood-fueled alternative energy source.
Through the grime I distinguished the make of his duds–
He was dressed all in fur, fairly dripping with blood.

“We’re a cruelty-free house!” I proclaimed with such heat
He was startled and tripped on the logs at his feet.
He stood back up dazed, but with mirth in his eyes.
It was then that I noticed his unhealthy size.

He was almost as wide as when standing erect,
A lover of fatty fried foods, I suspect.
But that wasn’t all to make sane persons choke:
In his teeth sat a pipe that was belching out smoke!

I could scarcely believe what invaded our house.
This carcinogenic and overweight louse
Was so red in the face from his energy spent,
I expected a heart attack right there and then.

Behind him he toted a red velvet bag
Full to exploding with sinister swag.
He asked, “Where is your tree?” with a face somewhat long.
I said, “Out in the yard, which is where it belongs.”

“But where will I put all the presents I’ve brought?”
I looked at him squarely and said, “Take the lot
“To some frivolous people who think that they need
to succumb to the sickness of commerce and greed,

“Whose only joy comes from the act of consuming,
Thus sending the stock of the retailers booming.”
He blinked and said, “Ho, ho, ho! But you’re kidding.”
I gave him a stare that was stern and forbidding.

“Surely children need something with which to have fun?
It’s like childhood’s over before it’s begun.”
He looked in my eyes for some sign of assent,
But I strengthened my will and refused to relent.

“They have plenty of fun,” I cut to the gist,
“And your mindless distractions have never been missed.
“They take CPR so that they can save lives,
And go door-to-door for the used clothing drives.

“They recycle, renew, reuse — and reveal
For saving the planet a laudable zeal.
“When they padlock themselves to a fence to protest
Against nuclear power, we think they’re the best.”

He said, “But they’re children — lo, when do they play?”
I countered, “Is that why you’ve driven your sleigh,
“To bring joy to the hearts of each child and tot?
All right, open your bag; let’s see what you’ve got.”

He sheepishly did as I’d asked and behold!
A Malibu Barbie in a skirt made of gold.
“You think that my girls will like playing with this,
An icon of sexist, consumerist kitsch?

“With it’s unnatural figure and airheaded grin,
This trollop makes every girl yearn to be thin,
“And take up fad diets and bingeing and purging
Instead of respecting her own body’s urging

“To welcome the shape that her body has found
And rejoice to be lanky, short, skinny, or round.”
Deep in his satchel he searched for a toy,
Saying, “This is a hit with most little boys.”

And what did he put in my trembling hand
But a gun from the BrainBlaster Power Command!
“It’s a ‘hit,’ to be sure,” I sneered in his face,
“And a plague to infect the whole human race!

“How ’bout grenades or some working bazookas
To turn all of our kids into half-wit palookas?”
I seized on his bag just to see for myself
The filth being spread by this odious elf.

An Easy-Bake Oven — ah, goddess, what perfidy!
To hoodwink young girls into household captivity!
Plus an archer play set with shafts that fly out,
The very thing needed to put your eye out.

And toy metal tractors, steam shovels, and cranes
For tearing down woodlands and scarring the plains,
Plus “games” like Monopoly, Pay Day, Tycoon,
As if lessons in greed can’t start up too soon.

And even more weapons from BrainBlastersCo.,
Like cannons and nunchucks and ray guns that glow.
That’s all I could find in his red velvet sack —
Perverseness and mayhem to set us all back.

(But I did find one book that caused me to ponder —
Some fine bedtime tales by a fellow named Garner.)
“We need none of this,” I announced in a huff,
“No ‘business-as-usual’ holiday stuff.

“We sow in our offspring more virtue than this.
Your ‘toys’ offer some things they never will miss.”
The big man’s expression was a trifle bereaved
As he shouldered his pack and got ready to leave.

“I pity the kids who grow up around here,
Who’re never permitted to be of good cheer,
“Who aren’t allowed leisure for leisure’s own sake,
But must fret every minute — it makes my heart break!”

“Enough histrionics! Don’t pity our kids
If they don’t do as Macy’s or Toys ‘R’ Us bids.
“They live by their principles first and foremost
And know what’s important,” to him did I boast.

“Pray, could I meet them” “Oh no, they’re not here.
They’re up on the roof, liberating your deer!”
Then Santa Claus sputtered and pointed his finger
But, mad as he was, he had no time to linger.

He flew up the chimney like smoke from a fire,
And up on the roof I heard voices get higher.
I ran outside the co-op to see him react
To my children’s responsible, kindhearted act.

He chased them away, and disheartened, dismayed,
He rehitched his reindeer (who’d docilely stayed).
I watched with delight as he scooted off then.
He’d be too embarrassed to come back again.

But with parting disdain, do you know what he said,
When this overweight huckster took off in his sled?
This reindeer enslaver, this exploiter of elves?
“Happy Christmas to all, but get over yourselves!!”

Signs You Are Broke After Christmas

  • American Express calls and says; “Definitely leave home without it.”
  • Your idea of a 7 course meal is taking a deep breath outside a restaurant.
  • You think of a lottery ticket as an investment.
  • You give blood everyday, just for the orange juice.
  • You finally clean your house, hoping to find loose change.
  • McDonalds supplies you with all your kitchen condiments.
  • Sally Struthers sends you food.
  • You go back for seconds at communion.
  • You’ve rolled so many pennies, you’ve formed a psychic bond with Abe Lincoln.
  • You rob Peter and then you rob Paul.

Santa Pickup Lines

  • Hey Babe, when was the last time you did it in a sleigh?
  • Wanna see my 12-inch elf?
  • I’ve got something special in the sack for you!
  • Ever make it with a fat guy with a whip?
  • I know when you’ve been bad or good–so let’s skip the small talk, sister!
  • Some of my best toys run on batteries…
  • Interested in seeing the “North Pole”? (Well, that’s what the Mrs. calls it…)
  • I see you when you`re sleeping–and you don`t wear any underwear, do you?
  • Screw the “nice” list–I`ve got you on my “naughty” list!
  • Wanna join the “Mile High” club?

The Politically Correct Rudolph

Original: Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer …
Translation: Rudolph was a four-hooved ungulate,

Original: Had a very shiny nose …
Translation: Who, incidentally, possessed a nasal appendage of a maroon lustre.

Original: And if you ever saw him …
Translation: Consequently, if circumstances were to present themselves that he ever came into your view,

Original: You would even say it glows …
Translation: You would most undoubtedly remark at to its illuminary qualities.

Original: All of the other reindeer …
Translation: The multitude of other members of the population in his ecological community,

Original: Used to laugh and call him names …
Translation: Had previously teased, chuckled boisterously, and dubbed him unspeakable pseudonyms — the objective of which was to lower his self-esteem and make him miserable.

Original: They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games …
Translation: They also excluded him from participation in leisure activities consistent with their species.

Original: Then one foggy Christmas eve …
Translation: However, on the twenty-fourth of December in an unspecified year…

Original: Santa came to say …
Translation: A mythological, supernatural being inherent to western culture (who symbolizes the Christmas attitude and allegedly brings gifts to children) arrived through the supersaturated, humid air.

Original: Rudolph, with your nose so bright …
Translation: He formally invited Rudolph, due to his extraordinary nasal characteristic.

Original: Won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?
Translation: To stand at the forefront of his snow vehicle with the express purpose that he navigate through the nocturnal mist.

Original: Then all the reindeer loved him …
Translation: At that point, the multitude of other members of the population in his ecological community who had previously teased, chuckled boisterously, and dubbed him unspeakable pseudonyms, reversed their disposition toward Rudolph to a more congenial, amicable relationship.

Original: And they shouted out with glee …
Translation: They consequently exclaimed with great exaltation and fervor,

Original: Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer …
Translation: Rudolph, the antlered mammal with a maroon nasal appendage,

Original: You’ll go down in history!
Translation: You shall most certainly be recorded in the annals of time, and your memory will be preserved for posterity!

The Politically Correct 12 Days of Christmas

On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my Significant Other in a consenting adult, monogamous relationship gave to me:

  • TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming,
  • ELEVEN pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in their
    union contract even though they will not be asked to play a note),
  • TEN melanin deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal ruling class system leaping,
  • NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,
  • EIGHT economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk-products from enslaved Bovine-Americans,
  • SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally protected wetlands,
  • SIX enslaved Fowl-Americans producing stolen non-human animal products,
  • FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration, (NOTE: after members of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to throw red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and partridge have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid further Animal-American enslavement, the remaining gift package has been revised.)
  • FOUR hours of recorded whale songs
  • THREE deconstructionist poets
  • TWO Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses and…
  • ONE Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.

Merry Christmas. Happy Chanukah. Good Kwanzaa. Blessed Yule. Happy Holidays!!!! (unless otherwise prohibited by law) *

*Unless, of course, you are suffering from Seasonally Affected Disorder (SAD). If this be the case, please substitute this gratuitous call for celebration with suggestion that you have a thoroughly adequate day.

Name That Carol, Part 2

  1. Move hitherward the entire assembly of those who are loyal in their belief.
  2. Listen, the celestial messengers produce harmonious sounds.
  3. Nocturnal time span of unbroken quietness.
  4. An emotion excited by the acquisition or expectation of good give to the terrestrial sphere.
  5. Embellish the interior passageways.
  6. Exalted heavenly beings to whom harkened from above.
  7. Twelve o’clock on a clement night witnessed its arrival.
  8. The Christmas preceding all others.
  9. Small municipality in Judea southeast of Jerusalem.
  10. Diminutive masculine master of skin-covered percussionistic cylinders.
  11. Omnipotent supreme being who relaxes into ecstasy distinguished males.
  12. Obese personification fabricated of compressed mounds of minute crystals.
  13. Expectation of arrival to populated area by mythical, masculine perennial gift-giver.
  14. Natal Celebration devoid of color, rather albino, as a hallucinatory phenomenon for me.
  15. In awe of the nocturnal time span characterized by religiosity.
  16. Geographic state of fantasy during the season of Mother Nature’s dormancy.
  17. The first person nominative plural of a triumvirate of Far eastern heads of state.
  18. Tintinnabulation of vacillating pendulums in inverted, metallic, resonant cups.
  19. In a distant location, the existence of an improvised unit of newborn children’s slumber furniture.
  20. Proceed forth declaring upon a specific geological Alpine formation.
  21. Jovial Yuletide desired for the second person singular or plural by us.

[scroll down for the answers]


  1. O Come All Ye Faithful
  2. Hark, the Herald Angels Sing
  3. Silent Night
  4. Joy to the World
  5. Deck the Halls
  6. Angels We Have Heard on High
  7. It Came Upon a Midnight Clear
  8. The First Noel
  9. O Little Town of Bethlehem
  10. Little Drummer Boy
  11. God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen
  12. Frosty the Snowman
  13. Santa Claus Is Coming to Town
  14. I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas
  15. O Holy Night
  16. Winter Wonderland
  17. We Three Kings
  18. Jingle Bells
  19. Away in a Manger
  20. Go Tell It On the Mountain
  21. We Wish You a Merry Christmas

Name That Carol!

  1. Bleached Yule
  2. Castaneous-colored Seed Vesicated in a Conflagration
  3. Singular Yearning for the Twin Anterior Incisors
  4. Righteous Darkness
  5. Arrival Time: 2400 hrs – Weather: Cloudless
  6. Loyal Followers Advance
  7. Far Off in a Feeder
  8. Array the Corridor
  9. Bantam Male Percussionist
  10. Monarchial Triad
  11. Nocturnal Noiselessness
  12. Jehovah Deactivate Blithe Chevaliers
  13. Red Man En Route to Borough
  14. Frozen Precipitation Commence
  15. Proceed and Enlighten on the Pinnacle
  16. The Quadruped with the Vermillion Probiscis
  17. Query Regarding Identity of Descendant
  18. Delight for this Planet
  19. Give Attention to the Melodious Celestial Beings
  20. The Dozen Festive 24 Hour Intervals



  1. White Christmas
  2. Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire
  3. All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth
  4. O Holy Night
  5. It Came Upon a Midnight Clear
  6. O Come, All Ye Faithful
  7. Away in a Manger
  8. Deck the Hall
  9. Little Drummer Boy
  10. We Three Kings
  11. Silent Night
  12. God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen
  13. Santa Claus is Coming to Town
  14. Let it Snow
  15. Go, Tell It on the Mountain
  16. Rudolph, the Red-nosed Reindeer
  17. What Child is This?
  18. Joy to the World
  19. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing
  20. The Twelve Days of Christmas

Mom’s Christmas Letter

Dear Darling Son and That Person You Married:

Merry Christmas to you and please don’t worry. I’m just fine considering that I can’t breathe or eat. The important thing is that you have a nice holiday, thousands of miles away from your ailing mother. I’ve sent along my last ten dollars in this card, which I hope you’ll spend on my grandchildren. God knows their mother never buys them anything nice. They look so thin in their pictures, poor babies.

Thank you so much for the Christmas flowers, dear boy. I put them in the freezer so they’ll stay fresh for my grave. Which reminds me — we buried Grandma last week. I know she died years ago, but I got to yearning for a good funeral so Aunt Viola and I dug her up and had the services all over again. I would have invited you but I know that woman you live with would have never let you come. I bet she’s never even watched that videotape of my hemorrhoid surgery, has she?

Well son, it’s time for me to crawl off to bed now. I lost my cane beating off muggers last week, but don’t you worry about me. I’m also getting used to the cold since they turned my heat off and am grateful because the frost on my bed numbs the constant pain. Now don’t you even think about sending any more money because I know you need it for those expensive family vacations you take every year. Give my love to my darling grandbabies and my regards to whatever-her-name-is — the one with the black roots who stole you screaming from my bosom.

Merry Christmas.

Love, Mom