Viikon vitsit


Little Angel atop Christmas tree

Santa was very cross. It was Christmas Eve and NOTHING was going right. Mrs. Claus had burned all the cookies. The elves were complaining about not getting paid for the overtime they worked while making the toys. The reindeer had been boozing all afternoon and were dead drunk. To make matters even worse, they had taken the sleigh out for a spin earlier in the day and had crashed it into a tree.

Santa was furious. "I can't believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over the world in just a few hours - all of my reindeer are drunk, the elves are on strike, and I don't even have a Christmas tree! I sent that stupid Little Angel out HOURS ago to find a tree and he isn't even back yet! What am I going to do?"

Just then, the Little Angel opens the front door and steps in from the snowy night, dragging a Christmas tree behind him. He says: "Yo, fat man! Where do you want me to stick the tree this year?"

And thus began the tradition of placing angels atop Christmas trees...

A modern Christmas Tale

‘T' was the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except Papa's mouse.
The computer was humming, the icons were hopping,
As Papa did last-minute Internet shopping.

The stockings were hung by the modem with care
In hope that St. Nicholas would bring new software.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of computer games danced in their heads.

Dark Forces for Billy, and Doom II for Dan,
And Carmen Sandiego for Pamela Ann.
The letters to Santa had been sent out by Mom,
To santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com,

Which has now been re-routed to Washington State
Because Santa's workshop has been bought by Bill Gates.
All the elves and reindeer have had to skedaddle
To flashy new quarters in suburban Seattle.

After centuries of a life that was simple and spare,
St. Nicholas is suddenly a new billionaire,
With a shiny red Porsche in the place of his sleigh,
And a house on Lake Washington that's just down the way
From where Bill has his mansion. The old fellow preens
In black Gucci boots and red Calvin Klein jeans.
The elves have stock options and desks with a view,
Where they write computer code for Johnny and Sue.

No more dolls or tin soldiers or little toy drums
Will be under the tree, only compact disk ROMS
With the Microsoft label. So spin up your drive,
From now on Christmas runs only on Windows 95.

More rapid than eagles the competitors came,
And Bill whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
"Now, ADOBE! now, CLARIS! now, INTUIT! too,
Now, APPLE! and NETSCAPE! you are all of you through,

It is Microsoft's SANTA that the kids can't resist,
It's the ultimate software with a traditional twist -
Recommended by no less than the jolly old elf,
And on the package, a picture of Santa himself.

Get 'em young, keep 'em long, is Microsoft's scheme,
And a merger with Santa is a marketer's dream.
To the top of the NASDAQ! to the top of the Dow!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away -wow!"

And Mama in her 'kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
The whirr and the hum of our satellite platter,
As it turned toward that new Christmas star in the sky,
The SANTALITE owned by the Microsoft guy.
As I sprang from my bed and was turning around,
My computer turned on with a Jingle-Bells sound.

And there on the screen was a smiling Bill Gates
Next to jolly old Santa, two arm-in-arm mates.
And I heard them exclaim in voice so bright,
Have a MICROSOFT CHRISTMAS, and TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.

S.H.I.T

A businessman got on an elevator in a building. When he entered the elevator, there was a blonde already inside and she greeted him by saying, "T-G-I-F" (letters only). He smiled at her and replied, "S-H-I-T" (letters only).

She looked at him, puzzled, and said, "T-G-I-F" again. He acknowledged her remark again by answering, "S-H-I-T."

The blond was trying to be friendly, so she smiled her biggest smile and said as sweetly as possible, "T-G-I-F" another time. The man smiled back to her and once again replied with a quizzical expression, "S-H-I-T."

The blonde finally decided to explain things, and this time she said, "T-G-I-F, Thank Goodness It's Friday, get it?"

The man answered, "Sorry Honey, It's Thursday."

Kuuden lapsen äiti

Kuuden lapsen isä oli sangen ylpeä saavutuksestaan. Hän oli niin ylpeä, että alkoi kutsua vaimoan ”Kuuden lapsen äidiksi”, vaikka tämä ei pitänyt nimityksestä ollenkaan.

Eräänä iltana aviopari meni juhliin. Herra päätti sittemmin, että oli jo aika lähteä kotiin. Hän tahtoi tietää, olisiko Kuuen lapsen äitikin valmis tähän.
- Mennäänkö jo kotiin, Kuuden lapsen äiti, hän kailotti kuuluvimmalla äänellään.

- Heti, kun sinua huvittaa, Neljän lapsen isä, huusi vaimo ärsyyntyneenä.

Ja muuta hauskaa...

- Miksi ruotsalaismiehet kulkevat usein pesäpallomailan ollallaan?
- Lajitoverinsa kohdatessaan he voivat hutunkeitolla ratkaista, kenellä on ensin sisävuoro.

Mitä naisten kihlasormuksessa oleva päivämäärä merkitsee?
- Parasta ennen.

Rekkakuski meni työpäivän jälkeen paikalliseen kahvilaan.
-Päivän pannu, tiedusteli tarjoilija?
-Ei, en ole ehtinyt. Olen ollut koko päivän töissä.

19.12.1997

AJASSA -SIVULLE