Funny Christmas Poem, A Politically Correct Christmas Story

This funny Christmas poem makes fun of the times we live in.  It’s called A Politically Correct Christmas Story.  The author is anonymous.

‘Twas the night before Christmas and Santa’s a wreck…
How to live in a world that’s politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to “Elves”.
“Vertically Challenged” they were calling themselves.
And labour conditions at the North Pole
were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.

Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their rooftops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called “Unenlightened.”

And to show you the strangeness of life’s ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorised use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she’d enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he’d never had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamoured or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that’s warlike or non-pacifistic.

No candy or sweets…they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

No baseball, no football…someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you’ve got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.

A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere…even you.
So here is that gift, it’s price beyond worth…
May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on Earth.

Funny Thanksgiving Poem — Toupee Souflee

This cute and well-written funny Thanksgiving poem, called The Thanksgiving Toupee Souflee, was created by Terry Lerdall-Fitterer and re-published here with her special permission:

The day had arrived; ’twas exactly one year
since my relatives, (moochers), had Thanksgiving here,
poor Grandpa was already stewed to the gills,
and Grandma–disgusted, was popping pink pills.

The turkey was turning a rich, golden hue
while children were screeching, “There’s nothing to do!”
And memories from last year still had me spell-bound
when inside my stuffing Gran’s dentures were found!

Soon mean Uncle Henry called–fit to be tied,
offended that no one would give him a ride
to this festive occasion–he’s such an old crab,
so he cursed one and all, then he phoned for a cab.

His arrival came soon, not that anyone cared,
the adults began groaning, the children were scared,
then I noticed a change as I hugged him with dread–
he was sporting a rug on the top of his head!

A pie made of pumpkin shot into my view
being used to play catch; out the window it flew,
and I thought for a minute just who was to blame
as my prized candied yams disappeared down the drain.

My husband, the whiner, quick pulled me aside
and bribed me with cash for a place he could hide,
with my baster now loaded and aimed at his butt,
he crawled back to the couch, made a face, then shut-up.

A frog and a hamster decided to play
on the counter by Auntie, preparing souflee
with the aide of old Henry; they both stopped to stare,
then she screamed and he raced from the kitchen–sans hair!

When asked he replied, “Gee, I had it before–
but perhaps in my haste it fell off on the floor.”
So we all made a search, but the hunt was in vain,
now poor Henry had nothing to blanket his brain.

Recalling what Auntie had started to make,
I put the large crock in the oven to bake,
then called for the vultures in voice sugar-sweet,
“Let’s move it, you morons–we’re ready to eat!!”

The turkey was carved when the timer rang out,
Auntie’s dish didn’t raise so I started to doubt
that ingredients used in her famous souflee
would’ve called for an ugly, synthetic toupee.

And lo and behold, as I dug through the dish
all smothered in egg whites–a hairy, Oh Ish!!
These Thanksgiving dinners, My God! I declare…
if it ain’t someone’s dentures, it’s somebody’s hair!

This author’s homepage is still under construction as of now (November ’08), but be sure to bookmark it and check back as she promises to put more of her work up in the weeks to come.

If you liked this post, you might also like this other funny Thanksgiving poem: After Thanksgiving Poem.