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CHRISTMAS WITH LOUISE!! A SCREAM!!.

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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 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. 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. " Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran, " Jay

said, trying to steer her into the dining room. But Granny was relentless.

" " Where are her clothes? " Again, I could have answered, but why would I?

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.

..........Happy Holidays!!

For all we know, our blessings are not the fruits of our prayers alone,

but those of another praying for us.

And.....

The task ahead of us is never as great as the power behind us.

My success is measured by my willingness to keep trying. "

- Anon.

Marguerite...

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