Banter provided by Cad and Leis
(Updated 31 Dec 06)
Really Bad Complaints Filed By the Elf Labor Union
The "I can't move up the company ladder because the rungs are too far apart" complaint. (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Santa won't allow them to send rejection letters that explain the laws of supply and demand to everyone who wants a brand new Wii in time for Christmas. (JTulli@Juno.com)
Always short on cash. (email@example.com; firstname.lastname@example.org) Yes, brace yourselves for the myriad of "short" jokes coming up.
Powdered sugar lung not covered by medical insurance. (email@example.com)
Toy workers in the woodshop are demanding a sander clause be added to their contract (Airfarcewon@aol.com) In addition to splinters, in the woodshop you can get your St. nicked!
Keebler needs to update their job descriptions. I'm tired of being called a fudge packer. (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Dental plan sucks...Herbie, the North Pole dentist, doesn't even have a degree...he just read a bunch of books on dentistry. (email@example.com) Shoulda gone to see Hermey instead.
People keep calling them Oompa-Loompas in error. (JTulli@Juno.com)
Santa was so unreasonable during labor negotiations that elves left the building. (firstname.lastname@example.org) I should take away some points for THIS one.
Pointy hats not stiff enough to substitute as sex toys when seasonal rush is over and we've all told each other to go get $&*%^#. (email@example.com)
You know Santa, I was witness to you running over grandma last night! Hush money for an elf, 100 rainbows! (firstname.lastname@example.org) Sounds like an episode of the "Snow-pranos"...
Every time we stand up for our rights and face the challenges before us, it all still smells like crotch or ass. (email@example.com)
Hasn't hired even one elf by the name of Shapiro, Greenberg, or Schwartz! (firstname.lastname@example.org)
They're always short-staffed. (email@example.com)
Peppermint-scented toilet paper in the bathrooms gives a burning sensation. (firstname.lastname@example.org) So do Altoids, but it never hurt THEIR company any.
A drunk Superman keeps flying over from the Fortress of Solitude and melting all the toys. (email@example.com)
The fat man takes up all our space and is giving us Claustrophobia. (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Want "Star Trek" banned from SanTV, citing freakish racism of Spock character. (GrigsbyOK@hotmail.com)
One bag of pixie dust doesn't go as far as it used to. (email@example.com)
He kept threatening us with the sack - the big one, full of pointy stuff! (firstname.lastname@example.org) "Jingle bells, jagged bells, let's all bleed away...."
A big distraction to workers when Mrs. Clause gets smashed and starts her North Pole dancing. (email@example.com)
SOMEBODY keeps adding Red Bull to the water cooler. (firstname.lastname@example.org)
The three lady elves in accounting are really sick of Santa entering the office and greeting them "Ho Ho Ho" (email@example.com)
Works us to death so much that we about to snap, crackle and pop! (firstname.lastname@example.org) Milking these puns for all they're worth, huh? ;)
The cafeteria is staffed solely by short-order cooks, and they think that's discriminatory. (email@example.com)
The urinals are too high, keeping us on our toes. (firstname.lastname@example.org; email@example.com)
If that fat guy calls us 'Dopey' or 'Sneezy' one more time . . . (firstname.lastname@example.org)
The South Pole has no big white bears, but does Santa listen to anyone? Nooooooooo! (JTulli@Juno.com) Oh...c'mon...either one of those cute little seals or a creepy little elf get it...I think Santa knows what he's doing.
Santa won't let us have coffee breaks...says it'll stunt our growth (Jdoveraz@aol.com)
Having to live with the fact that people actually think you are related to Will Ferrell. (ParisIuvsMe@aol.com)
Gee, seems like Santa has a small problem on his hands...
Santa likes to blast Randy Newman's "Short People..." on his new Surroundsound stereo all night if we're not working fast enough for him. (email@example.com)
Hey, the woman's frigid after all...she needs to have SOME fun...
Mrs. Claus refuses to call us "the hard-working Little People" (as our contract describes us) instead of "those crafty little bastards". (firstname.lastname@example.org)