Dragon Laffs #1466–December 19, 2015


Good Morning Campers,

And it is quite literally morning.  It’s one in the morning and I’m still finishing up today’s issue, so no long winded wind ups, no last minute admonishments, let’s just get this party started.





Yup, it really looks like it does hurt.  Better than an angel sitting up there.  Now that would REALLY hurt.


Not long ago and far away, Santa was getting ready for his annual trip. But there were problems everywhere. Four of his elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones so Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.

Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more.

When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. More Stress.

Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys. So frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey. When he went to the cupboard, he found the elves had hid the liquor and there was nothing to drink.

In his frustration, he dropped the coffee pot and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw it was made from.

Just then the doorbell rang and Santa cussed on his way to the door. He opened the door and there was a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.

The angel said: “Where would you like to put this tree Santa?”

And that my friend, is how the little angel came to be on top of the Christmas tree.

Like I said, I think the starfish got off lucky.


If there are any of you who don’t believe in Santa, it’s a sad, sad state of affairs.  We here at DL/LL HQ know he exists, because he cheats!  At cards that is.  Every Tuesday, poker night around here, if Santa is available, he comes around to play cards and cleans us out.  Well, maybe not everyone, Lethal always seems to come out ahead when we get together to play poker.  But, I have seen Santa cheat, there are only 4 aces in a deck of cards, but no one can call him on it because who’s going to believe that Santa Claus would ever cheat!!

Ask the girls, Diaman and Ginny about Santa.  They have both spent a lot of time on his lap, and let me tell you, he wasn’t always sitting in a chair when they do, if you know what I mean.








And with Star Wars just recently out, they can also be used as a light saber, or if you’re a Game of Thrones fan, you can reenact some of your favorite scenes while using it as a sword.




Yup, that’s me, dressed in dragon camo, getting Santa into and out of some of the more…shall we say … stickier neighborhoods.



Thanks for sending this one in ladies … and you know who you are!  A Christmas Tree may be better than a man, but is sure as hell ain’t better than a dragon!


I thought it would be a nice idea to bring a date to my parents’ house on Christmas Eve.
I thought it would be interesting for a non-Italian girl to see how an Italian family spends the holidays.
I thought my mother and my date would hit it off like partridges and pear trees…..I was wrong!
I had only known Karen for three weeks when I extended the invitation.
“I know these family things can be a little weird,” I told her, “but my folks are great, and we always have a lot of fun on Christmas Eve.”
“Sounds fine to me,” Karen said.
I told my mother I’d be bringing Karen with me.  “She’s a very nice girl and she’s really looking forward to meeting all of you.”
“Sounds fine to me,” my mother said.
And that was that.
Two telephone calls.  Two sounds-fine-to-me.
What more could I want?
I should point out, I suppose, that in Italian households, Christmas Eve is the social event of the season — an Italian woman’s reason for living.  She cleans. She cooks. She bakes. She orchestrates every minute of the entire evening.  Christmas Eve is what Italian women live for.
I should also point out, I suppose, that when it comes to the kind of women that make Italian men go nuts, Karen is it.  She doesn’t clean. She doesn’t cook. She doesn’t bake. And she has the largest breasts I have ever seen on a human being.
I brought her anyway.
7 p.m. — we arrive.
Karen and I walk in and putter around for half an hour waiting for the other guests to show up.
During that half hour, my mother grills Karen like cheeseburger on the barbecue determines that Karen does not clean, cook, or bake.
My father is equally observant.
He pulls me into the living room and notes, “She has the largest breasts I have ever seen on a human being.”
7:30 p.m. – Others arrive.
Zio Giovanni walks in with my Zia Maria, assorted kids, assorted gifts.
We sit around the dining room table for antipasto, a symmetrically composed platter of lettuce, roasted peppers, black olives, anchovies and cheese….no meat of course.  When I offer to make Karen’s plate she says, “No Thank you.” She points to the anchovies with a look of disgust….
“You don’t like anchovies?” I ask.
“I don’t like fish, Karen announces to one and all as 67 other varieties of seafood are baking, broiling and simmering in the next room.
My mother makes the sign of the cross.
Things are getting uncomfortable.
Zia Maria asks Karen what her family eats on Christmas Eve.
Karen says, “Knockwurst.”
My father, who is still staring in a daze, at Karen’s chest, temporarily snaps out of it to murmur, “Knockers?”
My mother kicks him so hard he gets a blood clot.
None of this is turning out the way I’d hoped.
8:00 p.m. – Second course.
The spaghetti and crab sauce is on the way to the table.
Karen declines the crab sauce and says she’ll make her own with butter and ketchup.
My mother asks me to join her in the kitchen.
I take my “Merry Christmas” napkin from my lap, place it on the “Merry Christmas” tablecloth and walk into the kitchen.
“I don’t want to start any trouble,” my mother says calmly, clutching a bottle of ketchup in her hands. “But if she pours this on my pasta, I’m going to throw acid in her face.”
“Come on,” I tell her. “It’s Christmas. Let her eat what she wants.”
My mother considers the situation, then nods.
As I turn to walk back into the dining room, she grabs my shoulder. “Tell me the truth,” she says, “are you serious with this tramp?”
“She’s not a tramp,” I reply. “And I’ve only known her for three weeks.”
“Well, it’s your life,” she tells me, “but if you marry her, she’ll poison you.”
8:30 p.m. – More fish.
My stomach is knotted like one of those macramé plant hangers that are always three times larger than the plants they hold.
All the women get up to clear away the spaghetti dishes, except for Karen, who, instead, lights cigarette.
“Why don’t you give them a little hand?” I politely suggest. Karen makes a face and walks into the kitchen carrying three forks. “Dear, you don’t have to do that,” my mother tells her, smiling painfully.
“Oh, okay,” Karen says, putting the forks on the sink.
As she reenters the dining room, a wine glass flies over her head, and smashes against the wall. From the kitchen, my mother says, “Whoops.”
More fish comes out. After some goading, Karen tries a piece of scungilli, which she describes as “slimy, like worms.” My mother winces, bites her hand and pounds her chest like one of those old women you always see in the sixth row of a funeral home.
Zia Maria does the same. Karen, believing that this is something that all Italian women do on Christmas Eve, bites her hand and pounds her chest.
My Zio Giovanni doesn’t know what to make of it.
My father’s dentures fall out and chew a six-inch gash in the tablecloth.
10:00 pm. – Coffee, dessert.
Espresso all around. A little anisette. A curl of lemon peel. When Karen asks for milk, my mother finally slaps her in the face with a cannoli. I guess it had to happen sooner or later.
Karen, believing that this is something that all Italian women do on Christmas Eve, picks up a cannoli and slaps my mother with it.
“This is fun,” Karen says.
Time passes and believe it or not, everyone is laughing and smiling and filled with good cheer — even my mother, who grabs me by the shoulder, laughs and says, “Get this bitch out of my house.”
Sounds fine to me.




This is truly awesome!  hallelujah by Lindsey Stirling on violin!

This is one of my favorite musical pieces and she really does it beautifully.


12 days of Christmas


I read this article that said the typical symptoms of stress are eating too much, smoking too much, impulse buying, and driving too fast. Are they kidding? That is my idea of a perfect day.


‘Tis true.  He does have a lot of balls.


 On the weekend of the biggest motorcycle gathering of the year, I was working at a club nearby. When the roaring machines pulled up outside, our patrons’ eyes swung toward the door and conversation turned into uneasy whispering.
 A group of tough-looking bikers walked up to me, and one of them asked me where the phone was.
 I pointed it out, and the silence in the room let everybody overhear what the biker said into the receiver. “Hi, Mom. Just want to let you know I’ll be home late tonight.”

Poor Grinch.
Hey!  Wait a minute!
The Grinch is green, Lethal Leprechaun is green…
Has anyone seen Lethal?

Ginny, Diaman, start the search!  Okay, everyone, this issue is temporarily on hold until we do a welfare check on Lethal Leprechaun!

Everyone starts getting up from their seats, grabbing flashlights (which is odd, since it’s daylight) and putting on orange reflective vests that say “DL/LL Search and Rescue” which seem to magically appear in everyone’s lap.  Diaman and Ginny are breaking people into smaller groups and giving them instructions on search grids and areas.  It is all going smoothly or as smoothly as possible, but this group consists of many retired or current military members, members of law enforcement, and other service related people, so for many of the audience, this is not their first dance.

Suddenly, from behind the small stage that Impish usually uses for his Saturday issue, a long slot opens in the floor and a huge computer monitor begins to rise.  The picture is actually appearing, even as the screen continues to rise.  On the screen is Lethal Leprechaun sitting behind a desk.

Okay, okay settle down.  Ginny and Diaman, and all the rest of you, too.  I’m fine.  It was indeed the Grinch who had surgery and, due to his magical/mythical nature, he may have died on the operating table, but he’ll be back and fine in time for next Christmas.  That’s just the nature of cartoon characters.  How many times did Elmer shoot Daffy?  Yet, you can tune in anytime and still see him on TV. 

He glares directly into the camera and says to Impish, You know better than to pull one of these silly stunts before Christmas, hoping that the search crews would find the Christmas present stash before they found me.  You probably didn’t even have my office areas on the search area map so you’d have extra time before someone realized I wasn’t in the hospital.

He snaps his fingers and suddenly all the orange reflective vests rise up off their wearers, fold themselves in the air into neat little squares.  And the orange reflective vests?  You just happened to have 450 of these prepped and ready to go?  Really?  You know you can’t fool me.

Ginny and Diaman are looking over the search areas and realize that Lethal is right.  No one has been assigned to check Lethal’s office area.  They look up and turn a frowning, displeased expression towards Impish.

Lethal Leprechaun snaps his fingers again and suddenly he is dressed quite similarly to one of Santa’s elves.  And for you Impish, I do want to say : “Good Try!” and I do have a present for you that I will give you right now. 

Impish’s eyes light up in anticipation, that is, until he sees what his present consists of on the monitor.

Let’s get on with the issue!






I love this time of year, and apparently, many of you do, too.  This is a picture of a section of Fun Mountain that is kept in the Christmas tradition all year long.  So, when you need a little magical pick up, there is nothing more magical than a snow covered little town at Christmas time.





I asked 100 women what shower soap they were using.

The most popular reply was:

“How the fuck did you get in here?”





This has been around for several years now, but it’s never been as appropriate as it is lately.

Company Memo
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: November 1, 2015

RE: Gala Christmas Party
I’m happy to inform you that the company Christmas Party will take place on
December 23rd, starting at noon in the private function room at the Grill

There will be a cash bar and plenty of drinks! We’ll have a small band
playing traditional carols… feel free to sing along. And don’t be
surprised if our CEO shows up dressed as Santa Claus!

A Christmas tree will be lit at 1:00 PM. Exchanges of gifts among employees
can be done at that time; however, no gift should be over $10 to make the
giving of gifts easy for everyone’s pockets.

This gathering is only for employees!
Our CEO will make a special announcement at that time!
Merry Christmas to you and your family,


Company Memo
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: November 2, 2015

RE: Gala Holiday Party

In no way was yesterday’s memo intended to exclude our Jewish employees. We
recognize that Hanukkah is an important holiday, which often coincides with
Christmas, though unfortunately not this year.
However, from now on, we’re calling it our “Holiday Party.” The same
policy applies to any other employees who are not Christians and to those
still celebrating Reconciliation Day.

There will be no Christmas tree and no Christmas carols will be sung.
We will have other types of music for your enjoyment.
Happy now?

Happy Holidays to you and your family,


Company Memo
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: November 3, 2015
RE: Holiday Party

Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous
requesting a non-drinking table, you didn’t sign your name…
I’m happy to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table that
reads, “AA Only”, you wouldn’t be anonymous anymore. How am I supposed to
handle this?


And sorry, but forget about the gift exchange, no gifts are allowed since
the union members feel that $10 is too much money and the executives
believe $10 is a little chintzy.



Company Memo
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
To: All Employees
DATE: November 4, 2015
RE: Generic Holiday Party

What a diverse group we are! I had no idea that December 20thbegins the
Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which forbids eating and drinking during
daylight hours.
There goes the party! Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon at this
time of year does not accommodate our Muslim employees’ beliefs. Perhaps
the Grill House can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the party
or else package everything for you to take it home in little foil doggy
baggy. Will that work?

Meanwhile, I’ve arranged for members of Weight Watchers to sit farthest from
the dessert buffet, and pregnant women will get the table closest to the

Gays are allowed to sit with each other. Lesbians do not have to sit with
Gay men, each group will have their own table.

Yes, there will be flower arrangement for the Gay men’s table.
To the person asking permission to cross dress, the Grill House asks that no
cross-dressing be allowed, apparently because of concerns about confusion in
the restrooms. Sorry.

We will have booster seats for short people.

Low-fat food will be available for those on a diet.

I am sorry to report that we cannot control the amount of salt used in the
food . The Grill House suggests that people with high blood pressure taste
a bite first.

There will be fresh “low sugar” fruits as dessert for diabetics, but the
restaurant cannot supply “no sugar” desserts. Sorry!

Did I miss anything?!?!?


Company Memo
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All F*%^ing Employees
DATE: November 5, 2015
RE: The F*%^ing Holiday Party

I’ve had it with you vegetarian pricks!!! We’re going to keep this party
at the Grill House whether you like it or not, so you can sit quietly at the
table furthest from the “grill of death,” as you so quaintly put it, and
you’ll get your f*%^ing salad bar, including organic tomatoes.
But you know, tomatoes have feelings, too. They scream when you slice
them. I’ve heard them scream. I’m hearing them scream right NOW!

The rest of you f*%^ing wierdos can kiss my *ss. I hope you all have a
rotten holiday!

Drive drunk and die,

The B*tch from H*ll!!!

Company Memo
FROM: Joan Bishop, Acting Human Resources Director
DATE: November 6, 2015
RE: Patty Lewis and Holiday Party

I’m sure I speak for all of us in wishing Patty Lewis a speedy recovery from
her recent nervous breakdown and I’ll continue to forward your cards to her
at the asylum.

In the meantime, management has decided to cancel our Holiday Party and
give everyone the afternoon of the 23rd off with full pay.

Happy Whatever!


And that is just perfect.








And that reminds me of a retired friend of mine when I asked him if he had a job.

He told me, “I’m my wife’s sexual advisor.”

I must admit I was a little shocked at that, so I asked him what he meant by that?

“It’s very simple,” He told me.  “My wife told me that when she wants my fucking advice, she’ll ask for it.”













A rather liberal friend asked me after the Paris shooting what I thought he needed to defend his home.  Now mind you, he is highly educated and has several college degrees.
I suggested as minimum a 9mm, a couple clips, and a box of shells.  A few days later,
he sent me this picture and asked how to make it work.
Scroll down



Of course he’s a Hillary supporter……..




My Dad, Papa Dragon Most Senior, sent me this very touching Christmas story…

Nice Christmas Story.

A couple was Christmas shopping at the mall on Christmas Eve and the mall
was packed. As the wife walked through the mall she was surprised to look up
and see her husband was nowhere around. She was quite upset because they had
a lot to do. Because she was so worried, she called him on her mobile phone
to ask him where he was.

In a calm voice, the husband said, “Honey, you remember the jewelry store we
went into about 5 years ago where you fell in love with that diamond
necklace that we could not afford and I told you that I would get it for you
one day?”

The wife choked up and started to cry and said, “Yes, I remember that
jewelry store.”

He said, “Well, I’m in the bar right next to it.”

How touching!  How sweet!


A Gift to Myself1 (2)






Accounting Practices1 (2)





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9 Responses to Dragon Laffs #1466–December 19, 2015

  1. Danny says:

    Lots of good stuff there. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Makes my day every time.

  2. Maggie says:

    a great issue and I’m looking forward to many more, I hope the entire gang has a marvelous Holiday, how ever you choose to celebrate. Many Joyous wishes to you all.

  3. Ginny says:

    Impish, you made us all laugh, smile and giggle with this Christmas issue. Well done my friend, you and Lethal have given me and Diaman the best gift of all….your friendships. You better spread the word……if you don’t believe in Santa, you WILL GET socks and underwear!

  4. Leah D. says:

    Tonight is our family party, of course at my house. The grandkids usually go home with the gifts we bought for them, but two of them I haven’t had a clue what to buy, and UPS still has some of the gifts we did get bought. One granddaughter has up and moved to Florida, taking the cutest baby boy, not only won’t we be able to have them at the party, but don’t know when we will ever see them again. Well, it goes on and on, so I want to thank you for Lindsey Stirling’s moment of peace and reflection of what it’s really all about.

    • impishdragon says:

      Leah, you’re quite welcome. Mrs Dragon and I were out late last night trying to finish up our Christmas shopping and we realized that we were buying stuff we needed for the new house. Silly things like laundry hampers and the such. When we realized what we were doing, we laughed at our practical side coming out and not the romantic, Christmasy, side. We are quite content to make do with what we have and enjoy the season with family and friends.
      Of course our little dragonette will be fully blessed with things she wants, but also with things she needs. Ah, the wonder of getting socks for Christmas. lol. I’m sure we’ve all been there.
      I guess what I’m saying is that I understand about your missing your (if I understand the relationship correctly) great-grandson. My kids and grandkids live about 2 hours away and I hope we’ll be able to see them sometime soon. With my work schedule and my son’s work schedule it’s almost impossible for us to line up mutual days off.
      Family is everything, all year long. But it seems as though it is especially true at THIS time of year.
      Thanks for your comments and nice words about our efforts, it means everything to us.
      And a very Merry Christmas to you,

  5. lethalleprechaun says:

    Great issue pal, even if I do now hqave to gut and redo my Christmas issue for your having used a bunch of things first. I’ll be sure to tell Santa.

    As for mistaking me for the Grinch, the Grinch had a heart, I’m the worlds only living heart donor.

    • impishdragon says:

      My apologies for matching up so much with your Christmas issue. Great minds and all that.
      You can go ahead and tell Santa what a rotten guy I’ve been all year. But, I’m pretty sure he already knows. I am a dragon, after all. Besides, you remember, it was you who reported that his naughty/nice list was leaked and we both know who the top two names were on the naughty list. Need I remind you who’s name was number two? Right under mine?
      But I was thinking, you know what our saving grace is going to be, don’t you? The nice list. The top ten names on the nice list had 8 of our patrons with number one and number two being Ginny and Diaman (I won’t repeat here what order they were in right here, just in case they don’t know). So, my point is, that we’re liable to, in the end, be included on the nice benefits (even if we aren’t on the list) by association with so many of the super-nice.
      At least that’s what I’m hoping.

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