If you threw a party, the worst thing you could have done was throw the kind of party where your guests wake up the next day and call you up to say they had a nice time. Now you'll be expected to throw another party next year. What you should have done was throw the kind of party where your guests wake up several days from now and call their lawyers to find out if they've been indicted for anything. You want your guests to be so anxious to avoid a recurrence of your party that they immediately start planning parties of their own, a year in advance, just to prevent you from having another one.
So next time, make sure your party reaches the correct Festivity Level....
Festivity Level One: Your guests are chatting amiably with each other, admiring your Christmas tree ornaments, singing carols around the upright piano, sipping at their drinks and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres.
Festivity Level Two: Your guests are talking loudly -- sometimes to each other and sometimes to nobody at all, rearranging your Christmas tree ornaments, singing I Gotta Be Me around the upright piano, gulping their drinks and wolfing down hors d'oeuvres.
Festivity Level Three Your guests are arguing violently with inanimate objects, singing I Can't Get No Satisfaction, gulping other people's drinks, wolfing down Christmas tree ornaments and sticking hors d'oeuvres in the upright piano to see what happens when the little hammers strike.
Festivity Level Four Your guests have hors d'oeuvres smeared all over their naked, liquor-soaked bodies and are performing a ritual dance around the burning Christmas tree. The piano is missing.
You want to keep your party somewhere around level three, unless you rent your home and own firearms, in which case, feel free to go to level four. The best way to get to level three is eggnog. Eggnog is a traditional holiday drink invented by the English. Many people wonder where the word eggnog comes from. The first syllable comes from the English word egg, meaning, egg. I don't know where the nog comes from. To make eggnog, you'll need rum, whiskey, wine, gin and, if they are in season, eggs. Combine all ingredients in a large festive bowl. Then induce your guests to drink this mixture.
If your party is successful, the police will knock on your door, unless your party is very successful, in which case they will lob tear gas through your living room window. As host, your job is to make sure they don't arrest anybody. Or if they're dead set on arresting someone, your job is to make sure it isn't you. The best way to do this is to show a lot of respect for their uniforms and assure them that you're not doing anything illegal. Here's how to handle it:... Police: Good evening. Are you the host? You: No Police: We've been getting complaints about this party. You: About the drugs? Police: No. You: About the guns, then? Is somebody complaining about the guns? Police: No, the noise. You: Oh, the noise. Well, that makes sense because there are no guns or drugs here. (An enormous explosion is heard in the background) or fireworks. Who's complaining about the noise? The neighbors? Police: No, the neighbors fled inland hours ago. Most of the recent complaints have come from Pittsburgh. Do you think you could ask the host to quiet things down? You: No problem. (At this point, a Volkswagen bug with primitive religious symbols drawn on the doors emerges from the living room and roars down the hall, past the police and out the front door onto the lawn, where it smashes into a tree. Eight guests tumble out onto the grass, moaning.) See? Things are already starting to wind down.
God and Eve After three weeks in the garden, God came to visit Eve. "How's things,
Eve?" He asked.
"It is all so beautiful, God," she replied. "The sunrises and sunsets are
breathtaking, the smells, the sights, everything is wonderful but I just
have this one problem. It's these three breasts you've given me. The
middle one pushes the other two out, and I am constantly knocking them with
my arms, catching them on branches, snagging them on bushes, they're a real
pain," reported Eve.
"That's a fair point," replied God, "but it was my first shot at this,
you know. I gave the animals what, six? So I just figured you'd need half,
but I see that you are right. I'll fix that up right away!"
So God reaches down and rips the middle breast right off, tossing it into
the bushes. Three weeks passed, and God once again visited Eve in the
garden.
"Well, Eve, how's my favorite creation?" He asked.
"Just fantastic," she replied, "but for one small oversight on your part.
You see, all the animals are paired off. The ewe has her ram,
the cow has her bull, all the animals have a mate, except me. I feel so
alone."
God thought for a moment. "You know, Eve, you're right. How could I have
overlooked this! You do need a mate and I will immediately create Man from
a part of you! Now, let's see ... where did I leave that useless tit?".
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