Feebly Humorous Christmas Songs That Haven't Been Written Yet

Feebly Humorous Christmas Songs That Haven't Been Written Yet
by R.D. Ronstad

I Won’t Be Working for You This Christmas, Mr. Walmart, So Hang My Stocking

Grandma Got Run Over by Mannheim Steamroller

Have Yourself a Very Merry The Holiday Formerly Known as Christmas

The Twelve Days of Christmas Remix, or, The Twelve Days of Christmas Not Necessarily in Order

I Want a Hypothalamus for Christmas

The “You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out” Polka

The Short Sweet Life of Frosty the Snowcone

They All Said Oh! When I Walked into the Tannenbaum at Bausch and Lomb

I’ll Be Home for Christmas (You Can Rag on Me)

Health Nuts Boasting … C’mon an’ Open Fire

Santa Made My Chimney Weep

Baby It's Cold Outside, But We're Fur-bearing Animals So Who Cares (written and sung by Sandy M. Cheeks and Alvin the Chipmunk)

The Maid Who Wouldn’t A-Milk

The Elf Fell in the Pretzel Dough, And Now the Elf is Pretzelly

I’m Feeling Rather Jingleless This Christmas

I Heard Mommy Dissing Santa Claus

Santa was Pissed as He Put Me on His List

Wheeze Mr. Postman

My Thumb is Numb (The Bell Ringer's Lament)

They Wanted to Return My Presence

Santa Claus is Bummin' Around (Sung to the tune of...Well, you know)

Why I'm Not Afraid of Jack Bauer

I’m operating on eight hours of sleep; Jack Bauer’s operating on eight hours of operating.

With all he’s been through, and despite appearances, he’s got to have the body of about a 200-year-old man. Jack Bauer is ready to crumble, literally.

Jack Bauer has experienced an endless string of victories. I have experienced an endless string of defeats. I figure the law of averages is on my side. Way on my side.

Jack Bauer is probably overconfident from reading all those fawning lists people are writing about him.

I have a useful contact at the Chinese embassy. A lunch counter server there (the beggar's chicken and sometime naked oats noodle lady), whom I met on OkCupid, says that in an emergency she can smuggle me into the embassy in an empty pig livers container. (She says the embassy is much more prepared for a Jack Bauer onslaught now that they’ve hired Johnnie To as director of security.)

I’ve begun to suspect I have some latent superpowers. For example, I've noticed I can see what’s going on on both sides of the locked door Jack Bauer is about to break down.

The theme music from 24 does the same thing to me that "Pop Goes the Weasel" always did to Curly of the Three Stooges.

Believe it or not, Nina is not dead. I know because I ran into her at a Dave and Buster’s last night. I think she likes me.

I have a bargaining chip. In the file they keep on me at CTU (these days, everyone has one), I’m officially classified as “no potatoes” (one level, as you might suspect, below “small potatoes”). However, I know someone who plays basketball with a guy whose brother thinks the husband of someone he works with may be “potatoes” (not a “big potatoes” or "Mr. Potatoes" type security threat, surely, but a seriously dangerous individual nonetheless). I would have no scruples about ratting out that potatoes guy to save my own no-potatoes skin.

Jack Bauer is sort of predictable. Sometimes it almost seems like he’s following a script.

I, on the other hand, am completely predictable. This would mess with Jack Bauer’s mind.

Jack Bauer is, like, about fourteen inches tall! I mean, c’mon!

Things Your Barber May Be Doing While You Have That Hot Towel Covering Your Face

Flipping a coin to determine your fate

Wondering how that picture of Oopsy Bear got on your towel

Trying to think of a word that rhymes with Brylcreem

The Barber Hop

Playing with his clipper ship

Reading a pamphlet on how to get a barber’s license

Adding your fallen hairs to his wig in progress

Getting up in your towel

Upping the price in the window

Giving the high sign to his plant, Audrey III