Christmas with Louise

[John *.?-!.* cub owner]

Received this from a friend.

Christmas With Louise

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 Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown.
If you've never been in an 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 and 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 hut.
"Where are her clothes?" Granny continued.
"Boy, that turkey sure smells nice Gran" Jay said, 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 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.
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!

[rleggitt]

John,

I never met a telephone man that was not a pranster.

[John *.?-!.* cub owner]

You have more time to think them up when you retire.