Carol of DeBella It's The Most DeBella Time of The Year Have A John DeBella Christmas
Have Yourself A JDB Christmas DeBella Show, DeBella Show What A Show, What A Show, What A Show
All I Want For Christmas   DeBella's Wonderland

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Andre sings!

A Christmas Story
 (In 30 Seconds & Re-enacted by bunnies)

The Snowman

Santa Cribs

It's A Wonderful Life
 (In 30 Seconds & Re-enacted by bunnies)
12 Gays of Christmas Santa Cops Sherm Sings

When telemarketers call our old friend Tom Mabe at Christmas A direct line to tell Santa's elves what you want for Christmas Santa likes to drink and get on Twitter! 2009 Dreidel Rap
A Family Favorite Farty Bells Letters To Santa Written By Shakespeare Characters The kids always love when Santa drops in...literally
Subservient Santa
a.k.a. Santa Sez
Porky's Blue Christmas What happens when the actual cast of "Scrubs" decides to re-do a classic The Christmas Letter Song
***We apologize for the station identifications in the middle of the song,
but due to the unscrupulous nature of
some radio shows, we are forced to put them there.
Pimp My Sled Ask the Magic Snowball 101 Classic Christmas Videos Online Go Elf Yourself
Mom is Santa Don't Shoot Your Eye Out Game 10 Unintentionally Scary Santa's Reindeer Clicking
Bohemian Christmas Rhapsody All I Want For Christmas is Jews 12 Things You Might Not Know About A Christmas Story Wife's Christmas Present
25 Weird And Bizarre Xmas Trees 21 Merrily Inappropriate Christmas Decorations Best Christmas Song EVER Alan Mann's
Christmas On The Block
Show Staff Rocks Out for Christmas 2010 Drunken Santa - The Musical Version Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy with Will Ferrell & John C. Reilly Jack Black and Jason Segel
had the same idea
Someone is not getting any chocolate gelt. Joseph and Mary stopped at more than one inn? Personalize videos from Santa to your kid Awkward Family Christmas Cards
A Treasury Of Children's Insane Christmas Wish Lists Feliz Navidad...Really? A Different Kind of Drummer Boy "Carol of the Bells" Played on Warehouse Equipment
Praise the Lord and Halleluiah!
Go Tell It on the Mountain
A Charlie Brown Christmas Reunion Merry Christmas A/K/A The Norris Split Angels We Have Heard on High (Christmas w/ 32 fingers and 8 thumbs) - The Piano Guys
Merry Christmas Exclamation Point Santa Dark 30 Funny Christmas Card Portraits  

Lots More Below

As heard on the John DeBella Show

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John's Favorite Christmas Carols Top 10 Reasons Why Chanukah Is Better
Than Christmas
  Top 10 Elf Pickup Lines Saint Nicholette
The Best Christmas Story I Know Top 10 Least Beloved Holiday Specials
Barbie & Ken Speak A Loving Christmas Gift
Holiday Parking Lot Rules John's Holiday Party Rules
Christmas Wrapping Paper For Men

The Christmas Specials Drinking Game!

Can you name these Christmas Songs?

The 4 Levels of Festivity




John's Favorite Christmas Carols

1.  "Santa doesn't like you, Little Timmy"
2.  "Help, Help, my tongue is stuck to the mailbox"
3.  "Aunt Frances is sleeping in your bed for the holidays"
4.  "Oh Holy Christ, when will it all end?"
5.  "Get out of my house, you alcoholic bastard"
6.  "Did we forget you again, this Christmas?"
7.  "Joy, it's my turn to check the lights on the tree"
8.  "Let's dress the dog up like a reindeer and throw her off the roof"
9.   "Twas the night I'll regret for the rest of my life"
10.  "Jingle This"



10.  There's no "Kathie Lee Gifford Chanukah Special".
9.   Eight days of presents (in theory anyway).
8.   No need to clean the chimney.
7.   There's no latke-nog.
6.   Burl Ives does not sing Chanukah songs.
5.   You won't be pressured to buy Chanukah Seals.
4.   You won't see, "You're a Putz, Charlie Brown".
3.   No barking dog version of "I Had a Little Driedl".
2.   No pine needles to vacuum up afterward.
1.   Blintzes are easier to mail than fruitcakes!




Top Ten Elf Pickup Lines

10. "I'm down here"
  9. "Just because I've got bells on my shoes doesn't mean I'm a sissy"
  8. "I was once a lawn ornament for John Bon Jovi"
  7. "I can get you off the naughty list"
  6. "I have certain needs that can't be satisfied by working on toys"
  5. "I'm a magical being. Take off your bra."
  4. "No, no. I don't bake cookies. You're thinking of those dorks over
      at Keebler"
  3. "I get a thimbleful of tequila in me and I turn into a wild man"
  2. "You'd look great in a Raggedy Ann wig"
  1. "I can eat my weight in cocktail wieners"


Saint Nicholette?
Old Saint Nicholette?

    I think Santa Claus is a woman..... I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he's a she.Think about it. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull it all off!

    For starters, the vast majority of men don't even think about selecting gifts until Christmas Eve. It's as if they are all frozen in some kind of Ebenezerian Time Warp until 3 p.m. on Dec. 24th, when they - with amazing calm call other errant men and plan for a last-minute shopping spree. Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. (You might think this would send them into a fit of panic and guilt, but most men would say it's an enormous relief because it lessens the 11th hour decision-making burden.) On this count alone, I'm convinced Santa is a woman. Surely, if he were a man, everyone in the universe would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating musical Chia Pet under the tree, still in the bag.

    Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all, there would be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted and strapped on the rear bumper of the sleigh amid wide-eyed desperate claims that buck season had been extended. Blitzen's rack would already be on the way to the taxidermist. Even if the male Santa DID have reindeer, he'd still have transportation problems because he would inevitably get lost up there in the snow and clouds and then refuse to stop and ask for directions. Add to this the fact that there would be unavoidable delays in the chimney, where the Bob Vila-like Santa would stop to inspect and repoint bricks in the flue. He would also need to check for carbon monoxide fumes in every gas fireplace, and get under every Christmas tree that  is crooked to straighten it to a perfectly upright  90-degree angle.

Other reasons why Santa can't possible be a man:
Men can't pack a bag
Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.
Men would feel their masculinity is threatened...having to be seen with all those  elves.
Men don't answer their mail.
Men would refuse to allow their physique to be described even in jest as anything remotely resembling a "bowl full of jelly."
Men aren't interested in stockings unless somebody's wearing them.
Having to do the Ho Ho Ho thing would seriously inhibit their ability to pick up women.
Finally, being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment.

I can buy the fact that other mythical holiday characters are men ....Father Time shows up once a year unshaven and looking ominous. Definite guy.
....Cupid flies around carrying weapons.
....Uncle Sam is a politician who likes to point fingers.  Any one of these individuals could pass the testosterone screening test.  But not St. Nick. Not a chance. As long as we have each other, good will, peace on earth, faith and Nat King Cole's version of "The Christmas Song", it probably makes little  difference what gender Santa is... I just wish she'd quit dressing like a guy!!!


A Christmas Story

    Years ago, there was a very wealthy man who, with his devoted young son, shared a passion for art collecting.  Together they traveled around the world, adding only the finest art treasures to their collection. Priceless works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet and many others adorned the walls of the family estate.

    The widowed elder man looked on with satisfaction as his only child became an experienced art collector.  The son's trained eye and sharp business mind caused his father to beam with pride as they dealt with art collectors around the world.

    As winter approached, war engulfed the nation, and the young man left to serve his country.  After only a few short weeks, his father received a telegram. His beloved son was missing in action. The art collector anxiously awaited more news, fearing he would never see his son again. Within days, his fears were confirmed.  The young man had died while rushing a fellow soldier to a medic.

    Distraught and lonely, the old man faced the upcoming Christmas holidays with anguish and sadness.  The joy of the season- a season that he and his son had so looked forward to-would visit his house no longer.On Christmas morning, a knock on the door awakened the depressed old man. As he walked to the door, the masterpieces of art on the walls only reminded him that his son was not coming home.

    As he opened the door, he was greeted by a soldier with a large package in his hand.  He introduced himself to the man by saying, "I was a  friend of your son.  I was the one he was rescuing when he died. May I come in for a few moments?  I have something to show you." As the two began to talk, the solider told of how the man's son had told everyone of his-not to mention his father's- love of fine art. "I'm an artist," said the soldier, "and I want to give you this."

    As the old man unwrapped the package, the paper gave way to reveal a portrait of the man's son. Though the world would never consider it the work of a genius, the painting featured the young man's face in striking detail. Overcome with emotion, the man thanked the solider, promising to hang the picture above the fireplace.

    A  few hours later, after the soldier had departed, the old man set about his task. True to his word, the painting went above the fireplace, pushing aside thousands of dollars of paintings. And then the man sat in his chair and spent Christmas gazing at the gift he had been given.

    During the days and weeks that followed, the man realized that even though his son was no longer with him, the boy's life would live on because of those he had touched.  He would soon learn that his son had rescued dozens of wounded soldiers before a bullet stilled his caring heart.  As the stories of his son's gallantry continued to reach him, fatherly pride and satisfaction began to ease the grief.  The painting of his son soon became his most prized possession, far eclipsing any interest in the pieces for which museums around the world clamored. He told his neighbors it was the greatest gift he had ever received.

    The following spring, the old man became ill and passed away.  The art world was in anticipation.  With the collector's passing, and his only son dead, those paintings would be sold at an auction.  According to the will of the old man, all of the art works would be auctioned on Christmas day, the day he had received his greatest gift. The day soon arrived and art collectors from around the world gathered to bid on some of the world's most spectacular paintings.  Dreams would be fulfilled this day; greatness would be achieved as many would claim "I have the greatest collection."

    The auction began with a painting that was not on any museum's list. It was the painting of the man's son.  The auctioneer asked for an opening bid. The room was silent. "Who will open the bidding with $100?" he asked.  Minutes passed. No one spoke.

    From the back of the room came, "Who cares about that painting? It's just a picture of his son.  Let's forget it and go on to the good stuff."  More voices echoed in agreement. "No, we have to sell this one first," replied the auctioneer. "Now, who will take the son?"  Finally, a friend of the old man spoke. "Will you take ten dollars for the painting? That's all I have.  I knew the boy, so I'd like to have it." "I have ten dollars. Will anyone go higher?" called the auctioneer. After more silence, the auctioneer said, "Going once, going twice.  Gone." The gavel fell.  Cheers filled the room and someone exclaimed, "Now we can get on with it and we can bid on these treasures!"

    The auctioneer looked at the audience and announced the auction was over.  Stunned disbelief quieted the room.  Someone spoke up and asked, "What do you mean it's over?  We didn't come here for a picture of some old guy's son, What about all of these paintings? There are millions of dollars of art here!  I demand that you explain what's going on here!."  The auctioneer replied, "It's very simple. According to the will of the father, whoever takes the son..gets it all."

    Puts things into perspective, doesn't it?  Just as those art collectors discovered on that Christmas day, the message is still the same-the love of a Father-a Father whose greatest joy came from his son who went away and gave his life rescuing others. And because of that Father's love..whoever takes the Son gets it all.



Top Ten Least Beloved Holiday TV Specials

10."The Grinch Who Stole Grandpa's Heart Medication"
  9."The World's Bloodiest Furby Riots"
  8."It's An Even More Wonderful Life If You're Rich"
  7."For The Love Of God And Everything Holy, Change Your Shirt, Charlie Brown"
  6."Hanukkah With Monica"
  5."Emeril Lagasse Spit-Roasts Blitzen Live"
  4."Ernest Borgnine's Mistletoe Kiss-A-Palooza"
  3."The House Of Representatives' Impeachment Proceeding And Holiday Hoe-Down"
  2."Kenneth Starr Subpoenas Santa Claus"
  1."Let's Biopsy"



Barbie & Ken Speak

Dear Santa,

Listen you fat troll, I've been saving your ass every year, being the perfect
Christmas Present, wearing skimpy bathing suits in December and dressing in
fake Chanel at sappy tea parties.

I hate to break it to ya', Santa, but it's payback time.  There had better be
some changes around hear or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown, and
trust me, you don't wanna be around to smell it.

These are my demands for Christmas 1999:

1.  Sweat pants and an oversized sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a
hooker in hot pink bikinis.  Do you have any idea what it feels like to have
nylon and velcro up your butt?  I don't suppose you do.

2.  Real underwear that can be pulled on and off.  That cheap-o molded
underwear some genius at Mattel came up with looks like cellulite!

3.  A REAL man... I don't care if you have to go to Hasbro to get him, bring
me GI JOE.  Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that pathetic bump of a
boytoy, Ken.  And what was up with that earring anyway?  HULLO!?!

4.  It's about time you made us all anatomically correct.  Give me arms that
actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is
anatomically correct.

5.  Breast reduction surgery.  'Nuff said.

6.  A jog-bra.  To wear until I get the surgery.

7.  A new career.  Pet doctors and school teachers don't make real money.

8.  A new, more 90s persona.  Maybe "PMS Barbie," complete with a pint of
cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips.

9.  No more McDonald's endorsements.  The grease is wrecking my vinyl

10.  Mattel stock options.  It's been 40 years - I think I deserve a piece of
the  action.  Considering my valuable contribution to society and Mattel, I
think  these demands are reasonable.  If you don't like it, you can find
yourself a new bitch for next Christmas. It's that simple.

As ever,


Dear Santa,

It has come to my attention that one of my colleagues has petitioned you for
changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and career

In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging remarks were made about
me,  my sexuality, and some of my fashion choices.

I would like to take this opportunity to inform you of  issues concerning Ms.
 Barbie, as well as some of my own needs and desires:

First, I, along with several of my colleagues, feel Ms. Barbie DOES NOT
deserve the preferential treatment she has received over the years.  That
bitch has  everything.

Neither I, nor Joe, Jem, nor The Raggedys: Ann & Andy, have
dream-houses, Corvettes, dune buggies, evening gowns, and some of us do not
even have the ability to change our hairstyle.

I have had a limited wardrobe, obviously designed to complement but never
upstage Ms. Barbie.  My decision to accessorize with an earring was
immediately quashed, which I protest, for it was my decision and reflects my lifestyle choice.

I would like a change in my career to further explore my creative nature.
Some options which could be considered are "Decorator Ken," "Beauty Salon
Ken," or "Broadway Ken." Other avenues which could be considered are:
"Go-Go Ken", "Impersonator Ken" (with wigs and gowns), or "West Hollywood
Ken".  These would more accurately reflect my interests and, I believe, open
up markets that have been under-served.

As for Ms. Barbie needing bendable arms so she can "push me away", I need
bendable knees so I can kick the bitch to the curb.  Bendable knees would
also be helpful in other situations of which you are aware.

In closing, further concessions to the Blonde Bimbo from Hell, while the
needs of others within my coalition are ignored, will result in legal action
to be taken by myself and others.

And kindly tell Ms. Barbie she can forget about G.I. Joe...he's mine, at
least that's what he said last night.




A Loving Christmas Gift

    For Christmas this year, my wife (the love of my life), purchased a week of private lessons at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since playing on my high school softball team, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
    I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Tawny, who identified herself as a 26 year old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My wife seemed pleased with my surprising enthusiasm to get started.
    The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress....


    Started my day at 6:00 AM. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Tawny waiting for me. She is something of a goddess with blond hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile!!! Tawny gave me a tour and showed me the machines. She took my pulse after five minutes of the treadmill. She was alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I attribute that to standing next to her in her aerobic outfit. (I thoroughly enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my own workout today. Very inspiring.) Tawny was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!


    I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out of the door. Tawny made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air...then she put weights on it. My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Tawny's rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!! It's a whole new life for me.


     The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was okay as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a Geo in the club lot. Tawny was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered the other club members. (Her voice is a little too perky for early in the morning, and I hadn't noticed that when she scolds, she gets this nasily whine that is quite annoying.) My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Tawny put me on the stair monster, er master. (Why in Hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators?) Tawny told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other shit too.


     Tawny was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed as her thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I explained that I couldn't help being a half-hour late. It took that long for me to tie by fucking shoes. Tawny took me to work out with dumbbells. When she wasn't looking, I ran and hid in the men's room. She sent Lars in to find me. As punishment, she put me on the rowing machine….which I sank.


   I hate that BITCH Tawny more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. (Prissy, pretentious, stupid, skinny, anemic, little cheerleader-wanna be BITCH). If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it. Tawny wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps. And if you don't want dents in the damn floor, don't hand me fucking barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a Health and P.E. teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the Drama coach or the Choir Director?


     Tawny left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrill, piercing little voice, wondering why I did not show up today? Just hearing her made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength even to use the TV remote and ended up watching eleven straight hours of the fucking weather channel.


    I am having the church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank God that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my wife (the other BITCH) will choose a gift for me that is fun….like a root canal or a vasectomy!





Holiday Parking Lot Rules




Christmas Wrapping Paper For Men

    Click To Enlarge    



Can you name these Christmas Songs?
Answers found below.

1.  Approach Everyone Who Is Steadfast
2.  Ecstacy Toward The Orb
3.  Hush, The Foretelling Spirits Harmonize
4.  Hey, Miniscule Urban Area Southwest Of Jerusalem
5.  Quiescent Nocturnal Period
6.  The Autocratic Troika Originating Near the Accent of Apollo
7.  The Primary Carol
8.  Embellish The Corridors
9.  I Apprehended My Maternal Parent Osculating with a Corpulent, Unshaven Male in Crimson Disguise
10. I'm Fantasizing Concerning a Blanched Yuletide
11. My Singular Desire For The Impending Yuletide Season Is Receipt Of A Pair Of Central Incisors.
12. During the Time Ovine Caretakers Supervised Their Charges Past Twilight
13. Celestial Messengers From Splendid Empires.
14. The Thing Manifest Itself at the Onset of a Transparent Day
15. The Tatterdemalion Ebony Atmosphere
16. The Coniferous Nativity
17. What Offspring Abides Thus?
18. Removed in a Bovine Feeding Trough
19. Creator Cool It Ya Kooky Cats
20. Seraphim We Aurally Detect in the Stratosphere
21. Valentino, The Roseate Proboscissed Wapati
22. Father Christmas Approaches the Metropolis
23. Ag Glockenspiels
24. The Slight Percussionist Lad
25. The Antelered Quadruped With The Cerise Proboscis.
26. The Event Occurred At One Minute After 11:59 PM-Visibility Unlimited.
27. Ornament The Enclosure With Large Sprigs Of A Berry-bearing Evergreen.
28. Anticipation Of This Noel's Memento's: Nil.
29. The Approach Of The Holiday Commemorating The Birth Of Christ Is Becoming Evident.
30. During the Dark Hours When Herdsman Attended Their Charges.
31. A Trio of Non-Occidental Potentates Is Our Identity.
32. A Meteorological Melody Is Manifest.
33. The Yuletide's Diurnal Dozen.
34. Please Permit Pristine Precipitation.
35. 'Rimey', The Mannikin of Crystalline H2O.
36. Our Desire Is Your Yuletide Cheer.
37. Aged Matriarch Plowed Under By Preciptious Darlings.
38. Are You Experiencing Parallel Auditory Input?
39. Endeavor to personally experience singular, miniscule Yule!

-------- Answers ---------

1.  O Come All Ye Faithful
2.  Joy To The World
3.  Hark, The Herald Angels Sing
4.  O Little Town of Bethlehem
5.  Silent Night
6.  We Three Kings
7.  The First Noel
8.  Deck The Halls
9.  I Saw Mama Kissing Santa Clause
10. I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas
11. All I want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth
12. While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night
13. Angels from the Realms of Glory
14. It Came Upon a Midnight Clear
15. O Holy Night
16. O Christmas Tree
17. What Child is This?
18. Away in a Manger
19. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
20. Angels We Have Heard On High
21. Rudolph, The Red Nosed Reindeer
22. Santa Claus is Coming To Town
23. Silver Bells
24. The Little Drummer Boy
25. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer
26. It came upon a Midnight Clear
27. Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly
28. I'm getting nothing for Christmas
29. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
30. While Shepherds watched their Flocks by Night
31. We Three Kings
32. There's a Song in the Air
33. The Twelve Days of Christmas
34. Let it Snow
35. Frosty, the Snowman
36. We Wish you a Merry Christmas
37. Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer
38. Do You Hear What I Hear?
39. Have Yourselves a Merry Little Christmas




The Christmas Specials Drinking Game!
All you need are a bottle of your favorite booze, a TV, and a Lay-Z-Boy. Grab the remote and start flipping.



The 4 Levels of Festivity

Festivity Level 1:

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 hors d'oeuvres.

Festivity Level 2:

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 3:

Your guests are arguing violently with inanimate objects, singing "I can't get no satisfaction," gulping down other peoples' drinks, wolfing down Christmas tree ornaments and placing hors d'oeuvres in the upright piano to see
what happens when the little hammers strike.

Festivity Level 4:

Your guests, hors d'oeuvres smeared all over their naked bodies are performing a ritual dance around the burning Christmas tree. The piano is missing.

You want to keep your party somewhere around level 3, unless you rent your home and own firearms, in which case you can go to level 4. The best way to get to level 3 is eggnog.



John's Holiday Party Rules

1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet
table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see
carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.

2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. Like fine single-malt
scotch, it's rare. In fact, it's even rarer than single-malt scotch. You
can't find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares
that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to
turn into an "eggnog-aholic" or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it!!!!
Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!

3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of
gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of
your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.

4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or
whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports
car with an automatic transmission.

5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control
your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat
other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello?

6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New
Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do.
This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the
buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of

7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like
frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position
yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before
becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of
shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.

8. Same for pies. Apple. Pumpkin. Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or,
if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always
have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?

9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the
mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have
some standards.

10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party
or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Reread
tips: start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner.

Remember this motto to live by: "Life should NOT be a journey to the
grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well
preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand,
martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and
screaming "WOO- HOO what a ride!"



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