he Twelve Politically-Correct Days of Christmas



     On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter
       festival, my acquaintance-rape survivor 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 nonhuman
          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 a Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.

The young playboy took a blind date to an amusement park. They went for a 
ride on the Ferris wheel. The ride completed, she seemed rather bored. 
"What would you like to do next?" he asked. "I wanna be weighed," she
said. So the young man took her over to the weight guessed. "One-twelve," 
said the man at the scale, and he was absolutely right. Next they rode the 
roller coaster. After that, he bought her some popcorn and cotton candy, 
then he asked what else she would like to do. "I wanna be weighed," she 
said. I really latched onto a square one tonight, thought the young man, 
and using the excuse he had developed a headache, he took the girl home. 
The girl's mother was surprised to see her home so early, and asked, 
"What's wrong, dear, didn't you have a nice time tonight?" "Wousy," said 
the girl.

A six year old comes crying to his Mother because his little 
sister pulled his hair.

"Don't be angry," the Mother says, "Your little sister doesn't 
realize that pulling hair hurts."

A short while later, there's more crying, and the Mother goes to 
investigate.

This time the sister is bawling and her brother says...

"Now she knows."

For me, penises are a hobby ... kinda like fishing ... The small ones you 
throw back, The good-sized ones you take home for dinner, and The big ones 
you mount."

Good News, Bad News, Worse News V
 
  Good: 
        You give the birds and bees talk to your daughter
   Bad: 
        She keeps interrupting
 Worse: 
        With corrections