Christmas Story

by Lisa (and story by Anonymous) 

I do believe that Bill is coming back today, so I better post something fresh in order to keep out of trouble. Below is a Christmas story that Susie sent me and I found very funny. It has apparently circulated on the web for a while, so if you have seen it don’t complain.  



As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his

fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill

them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true

because every Christmas morning, although Jay’s kids’ stockings were

overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.


One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and

went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don’t sell those things

at Walmart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. If you’ve never

been in a X-rated store, don’t go. You’ll only confuse yourself. I was

there an hour saying things like, “What does this do?” “You’re kidding

me! Who would buy that?”


Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a

standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a passenger

in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour.


Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many different

models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do

things I’d only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for

“Lovable Louise.” She was at the bottom of the price scale.


To call Louise a “doll” took a huge leap of imagination. On Christmas

Eve, with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life.


My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee

morning hours, long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the

dangling pantyhose with Louise’s pliant legs and bottom. I also ate

some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby

tray. I went home, and giggled for a couple of hours.


The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his

house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the

dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and

bark some more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her panty

hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for

the traditional Christmas dinner.


My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. “What

the hell is that?” she asked. My brother quickly explained, “It’s a doll.”


“Who would play with something like that?” Granny snapped. I had

several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut.

“Where are her clothes?” Granny continued. “Boy, that turkey sure

smells nice, Gran,” Jay said, trying to steer her into the dining room.

But Granny was relentless.


“Why doesn’t she have any teeth?” Again, I could have answered, but why

would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the

ambulance saying, “Hang on Granny, Hang on!”


My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to

me and said, “Hey, who’s the naked gal by the fireplace?” I told him

she was Jay’s friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the

mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting.

It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa’s last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died,

who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a

noise that sounded a lot like my father in the bathroom in the morning.

Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew around the room twice, and

fell in a heap in front of the sofa.  The cat screamed. I passed

cranberry sauce through my nose, and grandpa ran across the room, fell

to his knees, and began administering mouth to mouth resuscitation.


My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants and Granny threw

down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car.


It was, indeed, a Christmas to treasure and remember.


Later in my brother’s garage, we conducted a thorough examination to

decide the cause of Louise’s collapse. We discovered that Louise had

suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh. Fortunately,

thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health.

Louise went on to star in several bachelor party movies. I think

Grandpa still calls her whenever he can get out of the house.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to Christmas Story

  1. Michael says:

    Hey guys I really enjoyed the story. Hope you have a very nice Christmas and 2008.

  2. wrjones says:

    Put a feather duster in her hand so when she sails around she can get the holiday dusting done.

    Are you available to give educational tours of the sex shop?

  3. 01varvara says:

    Oh my!

    In short… I LOVED it! I could see my Nicky in the part of Jay, though… (giggle, giggle)

    a rather naughty (but nice) Vara

  4. 01varvara says:

    Oh… I forgot…

    MERRY CHRISTMAS! (You see, we Russians celebrate the feast on 7 January… we not only write our letters backwards, we play games with the calendar (don’t ask!))

    a contrite (but still puckish) Vara

  5. Miki says:

    Merry Christmas to both of you, Lisa and Bill, it is great to kind of spend it with you this year!
    By the way Bill, your Santa Claus Cup is the hero of the latest series of 24… have a look in Cafe Crem!

  6. kevmoore says:

    Great story! By the way, I’ve posted a special Christmas song Ive written over on CafeCrem, a Merry Christmas to everybody!

  7. lbtowers says:

    Welcome to our site Vara. YOUR comments made ME giggle!!! Are you posting from Russia? I am curious about that January 7th thing. But you said not to ask.

    And Kev and Miki, great to get to know you too. It has been a lot of fun. To everyone else who reads this, be sure to go to their site to see Kev’s wonderful Christmas song. He puts me to shame since my story wasn’t even original.

  8. 01varvara says:

    I am posting from the US, but, I am of Russian émigré background, speak Russian, the whole nine yards of it. If today is Roman Christmas… why don’t you go to You-Tube and search “six white boomers”? It’s not Christmas until you hear it!

    7 January is just 25 December on the Orthodox calendar. Easter is usually different, too, but for different reasons. I get a headache just thinking of it, so, let’s keep it as we have two different holidays, and that means TWO excuses for a party!

    Bill has accessed my blogsite, “Art and Faith” ( Lately, I have posted holiday things, but, there is a good deal of Russian art posted. In addition, I create art videos on You-Tube (my channel page is I would suggest that if you watch any, start with “The Last Waltz” (art of the Silver Age) and “Moya Rossiya” (a folk song matched with the art of Zinaida Serebyakova, my favourite artist).

    I have link to your site on mine.

    Whew! Too long by half! s Rozhdestvom Khrstovym! To the Birth of Christ!


  9. lbtowers says:

    Vara, I enjoyed your site/sites. I particularly love the images depicting Russian orthodoxy. Since I was in Russia in 1995, I became very interested in the iconography. You have a wealthy of visual information on your site. Thanks for sharing.

  10. lbtowers says:

    Vara, I enjoyed your site/sites. I particularly love the images depicting Russian orthodoxy. Since I was in Russia in 1995, I became very interested in the iconography. You have a wealthy of visual information on your site. Thanks for sharing.

  11. kevmoore says:

    Thanks for the plug Lisa! Hope your Christmas day was wonderful.

  12. kevmoore says:

    Oh, and Vara, I remember visiting an orthodox church in Moscow when we toured there. I think Im right in saying it was actually a replica, the whole thing. I believe Stalin had destroyed the original. It was incredible that they’d recreated it down to the last detail, you would never have believed it. It was a beautiful building.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s