Kerry's Komedy Klub

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Barbie's Letter to Santa

Author Unknown

Dear Santa,

Listen you fat little troll, I've been helping you out every year, playing at being the perfect Christmas present, wearing skimpy bathing suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many tea parties, and I hate to break it to ya Santa, but IT'S DEFINITELY PAYBACK TIME! There had better be some changes around here this Christmas, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me, you won't wanna be around to smell it).

So, here's my holiday wish list, Santa:

1. A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a hooker. How much smaller are these bathing suits gonna get? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and velcro crawling up your butt?

2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. Preferably white. What bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to my skin? (It looks like cellulite);

3. A REAL man...maybe GI Joe. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me Elmo over that wimped-out excuse for a boyfriend Ken. And what's with that earring anyway? If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me) anatomically correct;

4. Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct;

5. Breast reduction surgery. I don't care whose arm you have to twist, just get it done;

6. A sports bra. To wear until I get the surgery.

7. A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How about a systems analyst? Or better yet, an advertising account exec or even a Buyer at Ford Motor Company for goodness sake!

8. A new, more '90s look. "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun, outfitted with a fake fur coat and handcuffs; or "Stop Smoking Barbie", sporting a removable Nicotrol patch and equipped with several packs of gum; Or "Divorce Barbie" and package me with all of Ken's belongings.

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

10. Mattel stock options. It's been 37 years--I think I deserve it.

Ok, Santa, that's it. Considering my valuable contribution to society, I don't think these requests are out of line. If you disagree, then you can find yourself a new bimbo doll for next Christmas. It's that simple.

Yours truly,

Dreamhouse Malibu, CA

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Ken's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

I understand that one of my colleagues has petitioned you for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and career changes. In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging remarks were made about me, my ability to please, and some of my fashion choices.

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

First of all, I along with several other colleagues feel Barbie DOES NOT deserve preferential treatment - the bitch has everything. I, along with Joe, Jem, Raggedy Ann & Andy, DO NOT have a dreamhouse, corvette, evening gowns, and in some cases, the ability to change our hair style. I personally have only 3 outfits which I am forced to mix and match at great length. My decision to accessorize my outfits with an earring was my decision and reflects my lifestyle choice.

I too would like a change in career. Have you ever considered "Decorator Ken", "Beauty Salon Ken", or "Out of work Actor Ken?" In addition, there are several other avenues which could be considered such as: "S & M Ken" "Green Lantern Ken" "Circuit Ken" "Bear Ken" "Master Ken." These would more accurately reflect my desires and perhaps open up new markets.

And as for 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 for me in other situations - we've talked about this issue before.

In closing, I would like to point out that any further concessions to the blonde bimbo from hell will result in action being taken by myself and others. And Barbie can forget about having Joe - he's mine.

Sincerely,

Ken

[fritzkep]

Ken's Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

*snip*

In closing, I would like to point out that any further concessions to the blonde bimbo from hell will result in action being taken by myself and others. And Barbie can forget about having Joe - he's mine.

Sincerely,

Ken

Go Ken Go!

    

[Kerry]

His mother went back to stirring the pot, then suddenly whirled around and WHACKED him over the head with her spoon and said, "Don't you EVER complain about the taste of my cooking again!"

                                    

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You Know You're a Queen if:
Author Unknown

Keep track of your own yes answers and then see the bottom of the page... 

  If you regularly use the phrase "window treatment," then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If your kitchen drawer contains a shrimp deveiner, a mushroom brush, or a lemon reamer, (oh that word!) then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you know what a sconce is, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you have a pet named "Liza," "Gypsy," or "Talullah," then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you know how to spell Barbra's first name, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you've never felt the need to use Barbra's last name, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you know whether Rogers or Hammerstein wrote the music, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you've ever canceled a date because it conflicted with the Tony or Academy Awards, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you know the difference between "seafoam" and "celadon," then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you've ever been to a professional football game, spent the whole time watching the cheerleaders, and critiqued their performance, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If your Christmas stocking as a child contained bronzer or a moisturizer, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If your mother calls you for decorating tips, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If the names Jeff Stryker, Ryan Idol or Casey Donovan mean anything to you at all, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you know exactly where you were the night that Judy, Ethel or Lucy died, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If Special K means something to you besides breakfast, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you talk in italics, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you've ever needed a massage because you'd overworked your eyebrows, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you know a guy who swears that his brother-in-law was the admitting doctor in the emergency room when Richard Gere came in with a gerbil up his butt, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If someone says "How 'bout them Bulls?" and what you think of are petite picadors in tight pants, then, Miss Thing you're a Queen.
  If you require two syllables to say "please," then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If at eighth grade dances you were the only boy who could stay on the beat, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you still can't get over the fact that Sunday in the Park with George lost out to La Cage Aux Folles in nearly every category in the 1984 Tony's,
then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you know what Lyle Waggoner, Sam J. Jones, Christopher Atkins, Fabian, and Tommy Chong have in common, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you display in any public forum a reproduction of Michaelangelo's David, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you've ever trimmed your pubic hair to make "it" look bigger, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If by the time the bus has arrived at your stop, you've given every other passenger a "fashion score," then, Miss Thing you're a Queen.
  If you'd sooner skip a day at the gym than show up in a workout ensemble that just didn't match, then, honey, you ARE a Queen.
  If you're the only male sibling in a family of ten and grandmother left you the Limoges, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you can think of more than five uses for a doily, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you know who Dorothy Gale is, then, honey, you might be gay.
  If you've ever bought a pair of jeans because they gave you a nice "basket," then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you've ever turned when someone yelled "Hey, Mary!", then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you've sworn never ever again to get drunk and do your Bette Davis impersonation, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you used adverbs before the age of two, then, Miss Thing you're a Queen.
  If the idea of a car-parts store with the name "Ellis the Rim Man" makes you giggle, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you've ever coiffed so aggressively that you drew blood, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you've ever sent anything in black latex as a gift, then, Miss Thing,
you're a Queen.
  If you've ever asked for a sweat towel at the gym, but accidentally said "cum rag" instead, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If your home decor encompasses more than one kind of Chippendale, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If your dog is smaller than a bread box, then, Miss Thing you're a sick Queen.
  If to you the antonym for "no" is "fabulous," then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
  If you've ever entered a house and audibly admired the wainscoting, then, Miss Thing, you're a Queen.
 
Have you ever said, "Whatever", but only used your hands to form a "w" to say it? I added this one!! hehe 



YES ANSWERS:

Over 40 - Queen of the Ball (and you live in NYC!)

Over 35 - Gayer than Quentin Crisp

Over 30 - Sassier than Rip Taylor

Over 25 - Nathan Lane!

Under 24 - Honey, you're not hanging out with the right people!

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