OK. One more time ...
There's a girl in my office who's been flirting with me for weeks. It started with smiles, then progressed to tight blouses, then no bra and tighter blouses. She certainly had my attention.

Things escalated last week when she swivelled around on her wheely chair and showed her legs to great effect in a disgracefully short skirt. She looked me meaningfully in the eyes and uncrossed her lovely pins to reveal a distinct lack of underwear. Being on the phone at the time, she continued to sit like that for the duration of the conversation as my trousers filled with rigid meat.

So I was delighted to get her as my Secret Santa target. I bought one of those saucy vibrators with a remote control and watched her face when she opened it. She actually blushed! Then a sly smile came over her face.

This morning, when I arrived at my desk, she was wearing the same short skirt. Only this time, when she swivelled around to face me and uncrossed her lovely legs, I saw the butt end of that same vibro, which was deeply embedded in her parts. "Look in your top drawer," she whispered.

And there was the remote. I grinned, pointed it at her loins and pressed 'moderate'. It made no noise, but her wriggling and rising colour showed that it was taking effect. I flicked it to 'high' and she had to turn back to her desk, where she gripped her keyboard with whitened knuckles. That was when I remembered the clit stimuator and pressed the little pink button.

Her LCD monitor fell over when she came.
(frankspencer, Fri 15 Dec 2006, 11:44, Reply)

True Story - Despite what people think.
I started working in an office 3 years ago in November to make ends meet while i was in between jobs.

I hit the place at a good time. They just needed extra staff incase they had a sudden spurt of sales come through (what never happend) and it was time to announce the secret santa people. Being a small office (14 people and 1 manager) it didnt take me long to know people. Especially the little minx who was on the computer oposite mine. Mary.

The draw had taken place. I had managed to pick the office comedian Clive. HE was easy to buy for. Just got him a whoopie cushion and a book of stupid jokes. But also in the few days leading upto christmas i noticed that Mary kept looking at me. At first i thought it was a crush, then i thought i had summat stuck on me. But i didnt let it get to me. We wasnt alowed to give out the presents on the last day of work. It was seen as 'counter-productive' what is crap as we didnt have anything to do. So i sent Clive his present in the post, and hoped to get mine in the same manner. But in a way i didnt.

Couple of days before christmas, i recived mine. It was a cheque-book sex thingy where it says 'this cheque is for 1 blow job' that sort of thing. But the weird thing is that they all had 'NA' writtern across them and marked out. Apart from one. 'This cheque is for 1 night of passion'. Signed at the bottom 'From Mary'

I was a little intrigued. So i gave her a call on her mobile to see whats up. She said she liked teasing me, that was her Secret Santa gift. THe she asked me round because she didnt fancy going out that night and she was lonley. Great, i thought we could have a little food, some wine and watch a movie. So i grabbed us an Indian (takeaway not a person) and went over to her place. She opend the door. Then my mouth hit the floor.

She was wearing the most reveling underware i have seen. No bathrobe or anything. She grabbed me and gave me the most prick teasing kiss ive ever had. We put the Indian on the side and we took our fun upstairs. No words were spoken untill we had reached our first climax. Mary had said she found me atractive in a sort of 'young guy' (i was late teens, she was mid 20s) way and wanted to expierence that sort of thing. She showed me what she got from the Secret Santa. It was from Clive (funny little 3 way thing!) and it was and inflatable peins waht vibrated. It was 3 foot long, so it couldnt be used.

We then took ourselves down to eat the meal. IT was weird because i have barely spoke to the woman before, and there i am, in my boxers, she is in the revealing underware. We just made general nicities, then we moved into teh front room to watch a movie. About half way through (Sleepless in Seattle) we both again got a bit frisky. You can imagine the rest! We done it once more that night, then once before i left in the mornings.





We started back at the office. Clive was setting off his whoopie cushion and telling everyone the BAD jokes what was in his book. Every time i looked at Mary, she looked away. At lunch i went to find her to see what was up. She told me it was a mistake and that it wont happen again, and it would be best if i tried not to speak to her. Fair enough i thought, im out on feb 1st so it doesnt bother me too much.

Heres the climax (pardon the pun). I had an email pop up from her the day i left. She thanked me for making one of her fantasys come true. Then it went on to say that she was married. Her husband was away for business and wanted me to come over and live out her fantasy. Then it wnet into great detail about for the past 5 years shes wanted to seduce a young man, and the previous people who was in my position were either fat science geeks, lads who are pretty and love them selves or just plain virgins who cant read the signs.




Names have been changed. This is a true story, i still have the email now. On an old hotmail acount ofcourse! If you click 'I Like This', i will let you know how to work in that office next christmas!
(DebbieDoesDerby, Fri 15 Dec 2006, 16:58, Reply)

I always get my loved ones petrol-soaked fake moustaches for Christmas.

It's such a joy to watch their faces light up.
( Lord Keeps meaning to procrastinate., Sun 17 Dec 2006, 23:33, Reply)

Quite proud of what I did last year
Had to buy a cheap gift for the new guy in the office. He hadn't even been there a week so nobody knew a damn thing about the guy - except that he was a smoker. So, being the creative type that I am, I bought him a pack of 20 Marlboro Lights and threw together some custom cut-out-and-keep warning labels.

Just so happens that I kept the warning labels on my hard drive, so here you all go - print this out and give it to your smoking co-worker. It's cheap as chips and you'll look all clever-pants-smarty.



Sorry for the size, by the way
( Spunk Murphy Tchaikovsky is a synonym for fanny, apparently, Fri 15 Dec 2006, 14:37, Reply)

One Christmas day...
I bought the girl I loved a bird and a tree, then she dumped me the very next day, so in revenge I followed up by buying all sorts of nonsense presents including swans, milkmaids and lords. She went loopy.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Sat 16 Dec 2006, 13:05, Reply)

Bully
A gentleman whom I manage has accused me of bullying and threatening him over the course of the last year. So bad is my alleged bullying that he "feels so depressed and suicidal at the thought of coming into work".

That being the case, buying him 2000 paracetamol for his Secret Santa seems quite reasonable to me.
(Light, Fri 15 Dec 2006, 11:41, Reply)

bindun?
£30 limit at work.

Bought my (female) boss a revealing outfit from Primark and a train ticket to Ipswich




*sorry
(FiftyFour, Sat 16 Dec 2006, 3:29, Reply)

OOoh... Aaaahhh....
My Gran is hard of hearing.

Last christmas my uncle bought her a pair of "Sexy Slippers" that made sex noises when you walk. They looked normal, so my Gran was slightly confused why people kept laughing whenever she walked around or entered a room.

"Isn't everyone having a jolly christmas!?"
"Er... yeah Gran it's pfffffft... great."
(ralphseviltwin, Fri 15 Dec 2006, 12:32, Reply)

My ex flatmate...
Someone decided my flatmate would receive a fake vagina as his present, but due to the secret santa price limit they had diffuculty finding a suitable one.

They improvised.

He received a melon (with a hole cut in it, above which a picture of a lady from a porn mag with her legs akimbo had been glued). It had a big ribbon and bow round it and ooh la la Melony painted on the back in tippex.

Melony died a tragic, lonely death in the upstairs toilet sink. By the time we decided to give her a proper burial she was nothing more than a mouldy melonskin full of rotting mush and fruit flies. She smelt so bad it made flatmate puke even though he was wearing a teatowel covered in vicks over his face.

She's reputed to have died a virgin, but I question my flatmates honesty on this matter.

RIP Melony
(ralphseviltwin, Fri 15 Dec 2006, 13:33, Reply)

I'm sorry... the whole fricking concept
The idea that we should be coerced into spending our money on buying gifts for selfish, incompetent, anti-social retards for no other reason that the market economy has given us no choice but to spend 1/4 of our lives having to suffer their boring, dreary, obnoxious presence day in, day fricking out. Shouldn't these people just be grateful that there's nobody hiding behind the door swinging at them with a cricket bat as they file into work?

Why has Secret Santa become normal, while (e.g.) defecating into lunchboxes on buses hasn't?
(><(((">, Sun 17 Dec 2006, 11:04, Reply)

Santa may be secret, but don't let someone else get the credit!
In my first year at a respectible job I drew the faculty director as my secret santa. With a budget of only £5 I was determined not to buy any old crap and actually got some really nice black & white notelet card things. For saying thanks by mail etc. Ideal for a 40 something professional woman...

Trouble was I'd have to leave the pressie with her PA who I'd heard was good at stealing the credit for other people efforts. Sort of a the director is so busy it wouldn't be fair for someone else to get her as secret santa so we engineer it so her PA always gets her etc.

SO, not wanting the credit to be misslaid I wrote a handwritten note saying happy christmas from secret santa and hope she enjoyed using all the notelets. Then placed in at the bottom of the box where you'd only find it after using them all...

Come January I heard on the grapevine she was delighted with her pressie and her PA beamed with pride everytime they were mentioned.
I heard that around July the Director asked her PA where she might buy some more, her PA said she couldn't remember where she got them... the Director mentioned my note of course knowing her PA didn't buy them!
Egg on face, even if it took 7 months to show her up!

Sorry about the length, budget was only £5 you see!
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Mon 18 Dec 2006, 15:03, Reply)

Filth
Last year I was given a Cliff Richard calendar. This was after I had spent many a painful hour discussing my hatred for the botoxed weirdo, so initially I was none too pleased. But when I started looking at it, it was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen.

This calendar features some of the most salacious filth ever printed. To give you some idea, this is the 2007 version. Eeeeeeeeeewwwwww!!!

There are pictures of the lovely Cliff on a cross trainer *shudder*, cooking, decorating a Christmas tree, shaving - actually shaving! I mean, WTF? And all this is done with exactly the same simpering smirk for every month.

As you read this, somewhere some menopausal housewife is flicking her bean over pictures of Cliff Richard on a cross trainer.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Wed 20 Dec 2006, 9:58, Reply)

Well, it happened...
Ours was today, and I refrained from kipper-age and instead opted for a cheap CD they'd like (Thank you HMV sale) and a bag of paedo-sweets (Werthers Original).

Boss (female) got a large pink dildo, then read very loudly with great disappointment: "OOOO I'll have to take it back. It says here not suitable for anal use"
( Sonic James Doom forgetting the date since... umm..., Tue 19 Dec 2006, 12:35, Reply)

Four fingers
My work colleague lost his wedding ring finger first week into this job. Daves been here for 4 years now and every year we always gets a gift of a kit kat as it has 4 fingers just like him.
(grazer is sick of looking at houses, Sat 16 Dec 2006, 15:05, Reply)

Tightwads
As part of NHS cost-cutting, my old boss decided that all the office workers in the hospital should do their own cleaning and bog-scrubbing and the cleaners were given the boot.

Imagine her surprise at the Christmas party upon opening her gaily wrapped Secret Santa to find a packet of J-cloths and a roll of binliners.

It wasn't me. Honest.
( weebear1974 discovering the joy of cat rape since, Fri 15 Dec 2006, 16:50, Reply)

No secret Santas..
Sweden.. *sigh*

Well.. people get confused by this concept... and I've never been somewhere that has.. so sadly I've not had the oppertunity to give an unfortunate person a bitchy gift that highlights thier misfortune... nor have I had the oppertunity - much less the will - to shit on the christmas spirit like so many of you clearly have.

You complete shower of total and utter bastards... the ONE time of the year to show love an compassion.... and you use it to kick people anonymously in thier weakest place.
Assholes.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Sat 16 Dec 2006, 23:39, Reply)

Works for girlfriends and wives, too.... once.
Mainly because - if you're a man with no track-record - they're half-expecting a really crap gift from you. Same goes for Secret Santas, I guess - so here goes:

1. You know what they say about the thought counting for something? Well, fuck me if it isn't true. Put some thought into your present. By choosing something clever/appropriate, you can squeeze a lot out of £5. Acutally, make that £4.50...

2. Pop along to your nearest charity store or boot sale and pick up an old jigsaw puzzle for 50p. If it doesn't have a price sticker, add one and the text '5 pieces missing'... then pop the actual gift (something *decent*, remember) inside the box, mix it in with the jigsaw pieces and wrap the lot in obviously-recycled Christmas wrap.

They'll think you've bought them crap, but inside will be something lovely. They'll never forget it.
( Manic can teach you the secret of fire, Fri 15 Dec 2006, 17:57, Reply)

Extended Family
I know this is slightly off topic, but what you are about to read, regards the Christmas presents we (my family and I) have been given by my relatives, on my Mother's side family over the years, which is a little like secret santa, because what we usually receive from them, suggests that the frame of mind, of certain members of my extended family, when purchasing gifts, is very much in the same vein as someone whom is buying anonymously.

1) At the age of 11 my youngest brother received an oversize plastic hammer, which played the sound of glass smashing, when the end of the hammer was struck against another object. It was second hand, and on the box was written "Suitable for 2-4 year olds".

2) Both my brothers, my sister, and I, opened our gifts one Christmas morning, and were pleasanlty suprised to find we had all received remote control cars, which for once seemed a really good gift, on closer inspection however, the remote control cars were all attached to a 5ft wire, on the end of which was the controller, so not so good. The cars in action, were a little like taking a dog for a walk, really slowly.

3) My father received what I can only describe as a dwarf barbeque (too large and heavy to be considered a camping stove, the trade name on the box was "GrillFass"), with about enough room to cook a couple of rashers of bacon. Not a great gift for a family of six, and probably picked up in the bargain bin at a garden centre, as I don't know too many shops that have a push on barbeques at Christmas time. Also, the barbeque was about a foot tall, and didn't have legs. So when in use, because the cast iron lump would get quite hot, you either had to put it on the ground, crouch, and then cook, or somehow find a flame retardent, tungsten table to place it upon.

4) Another great present for my father, "Thus Spoke Zarathustra", by Friedrich Nietzsche. I didn't understand what this book was at the time (so I was unable to appreciate the sublime stupidity of this gift until years later), but neither did my dad, who is more of a cricket fan than a philosopher, I think his reaction once he had removed the wrapping paper, was "That's a funny name for a novel".

5) At the age of 14, from my Grandma, I received what was entitled a "Penis Repair Kit", in which were bundled a small pair of scissors, some moisturiser, and a couple of lace bows. I don't know how self assured other pubescent teenagers are about their private parts, but opening this in front of my family whom were all laughing, was very emabarassing. Further more, when I threw it in the bin, the gift tag fell off, and underneath was written the message "Love, from Sarah Tweedy, p.s. don't tell Dad", so another second hand gift.

6) One of my brothers once stupidly mentioned, in front of our grand parents, that they liked liquor chocolates. So for 5 years straight they received, a value size box of "brandy beans" (about 50 in a box, all exactly the same... after eating about 5, you're sick of them), each Christmas, made by the exact same manufacturer, and with exaclty the same design on the box. I swear they bought them in bulk in the January sales one year.

7) My sister once received an oil burning lamp.....

8) The elder of my two brothers also received a "Ralph Lauren" shirt. Again, seemingly a decent gift, however when he tried it on, it was obvious it was second hand, it smelled of cigarettes, and the collar was massive, like something John Travolta might have worn in Saturday Night Fever.

9) Finally, there was the hamper from my Mother's brother. He is married to a dutch woman, and lives in Holland, so one Christmas he sent all the family, a hamper of Dutch delicacies. On the basis of this hamper, I would hate to see what the Dutch consider, inedible, in which there was a giant tub of apple jelly, stale biscuits, some other strange barely edible crap, and the centre piece of the hamper, some aniseed flavoured tables, apparently for making flavoured water (Hot or Cold!), I think they were called "arsjeblookes", and could well have been mistaken for suppositories.

I wonder what I'll get this year, and I wonder If I'll be able to sell it on Ebay.

Merry Christmas.

EDIT: p.s. Just so my post qualifies (it isn't very interesting, feel free to move on to the next post), I have taken part in a Secret Santa thing before. I gave a fellow female employee a hand made A-Team t-shirt, with pictures of Hannibal, Face, Murdock and BA, each with a silly caption underneath (I was really proud of my work, I wish I had a picture to post). Unfortunately the miserable bag seemed quite apathetic about her gift, I later learned she was a frighteningly devoted Bruce Springstein fan, in retrospect, I should have chosen different pictures to match the caption "Porn in the USA", or something similar....missed opportunity.

EDIT EDIT: p.p.s To Sarah Tweedy (whoever you are), if you're reading, your boyfriend gave your gift to my grandma, which means that either your boyfriend thinks my gran has a penis, or he wanted her to have a look at his old chap, either way, he seems like a bad egg...also I'm confused, is your boyfriend's dad, also your dad? I have wondered sometimes. I hope you didn't marry the fellow.
(dunkindogdo, Thu 21 Dec 2006, 0:55, Reply)

Our team in work tried Secret Santa.....
Faraj the Iraq immigrant didn't quite understand the concept though and gave our manager an AK-47 and two wives.

Seriously though, last year Faraj was blessed with a new child, and took 2 weeks off for leave. When he come back in, we'd all signed a congratulations card for him and gave him it in a meeting. He actually burst out crying in happiness as no-one in Iraq would batter an eye-lid to them if he worked there.
Sort of puts things into perspective a bit that does.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Wed 20 Dec 2006, 17:08, Reply)

scousers!
not secret santa exactly, but whilst the present giving was going on at my old estate agency's christmas dinner... we were in the posh restaurant by the albert dock which my boss owned. i was on one of the company tables. suddenly there was a horrendous racket at the other table, as about 18 men jumped on 1 bloke and began to beat him to a christmas coloured but otherwise very unseasonal pulp.

turned out they had all been introducing themselves as there was a mix of liverpool and manchester staff. when they got to this man, it was discovered he was just a pikey scouser who'd wandered in off the street for a free meal - turns out he'd been getting away with it most nights all christmas! only in liverpool...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Tue 19 Dec 2006, 17:23, Reply)

"A squirrel! It's a fuckin' squirrel!"
We keep a drawer brimming with low quality seaside tat (living as we do in a low quality seaside town) in case we have unexpected Christmas visitors bearing gifts. It's like a Secret Santa, as even we don't know what we're going to give people, until the drawer is flung open in panic, and something awful dragged out.

Caught short by several distant family members using our place for a free weekend on the coast, the drawer was empty, and I was forced to improvise when the wife's aunt and her manky old boyfriend came to call.

"Thank buggery they've gone," said Mrs Duck at the end of our ordeal, which was spent with the boyf staring at her chest, non-stop for three hours, "what did you give them?"

"A video."

"Oh Lord. Which one?"

"Flesh Gordon."

"Thank God, you had me worried for a minute."

Low quality VHS smut. The gift that tells unwanted visitors to get to fuck.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Fri 15 Dec 2006, 13:34, Reply)

Secret santa my arse
What a load of nonsense. So you bought the fat lass a diet book, the ginger bloke hair dye and the paraplegic rollerskates. How very funny. Ever occured that you're just wasting your money which could be better spent in Public houses? I did do it once though and pulled out my mates name, he pulled out mine. we both realised it was a load of bollocks but didnt want to let the side down, so I gave him 50 quid and he gave me the same. There was no point in swapping 50 quids over so we just kept the money in our pockets. which was quite lucky cos we were both broke.
(The_Greyhound wrote www.luckymcdanger.blog.co.uk on, Tue 19 Dec 2006, 14:25, Reply)

i don't give presents, usually.
when i was a bartender, i had a customer come in after shopping and ask if i minded if he wrapped some gifts at a table. he was a good guy, so i said sure. when he finished he had wrapping paper left over and i decided to put some cigarette butts and other junk inside some empty packs and wrap them, then leave them unattended. sure enough, some goof stole the 'gifts' and ran off. everyone sitting at my bar had a big laugh. the end? no!

next day, an occasional customer came in and told us that some jerk friend of his had given him a present that was 'just garbage and cig. butts!' of course the regulars and i burst out laughing -- not only had our joke gained another punchline, but when the crabby giftee told us who the jerk friend was, we found out the identity of the present thief.
( postbear has metal knees, Tue 19 Dec 2006, 4:26, Reply)

Bald Ian said "I hate secret Santa because every year I get a fucking wig"
This year he got an Elvis one.
( krang, Mon 18 Dec 2006, 11:13, Reply)

i have never been a secret santa
but i did buy one of my muslim mates a bacon butty and told him it was beef he found out and battered me and we are no longer mates i think hes fighting in irai god it was only bacon the fag
(branflakes, Fri 15 Dec 2006, 14:12, Reply)

France
Season 2004-05, secret santa at the hotel I was working in. I picked Mark the chef and bought him a nice Burton zip tool for his jacket. A nice thoughtful present, thought me. However, my sense of humour and perversion was well known, and my manager bought me one of the most horrible french jazz mags I've ever seen. Grannies is various positons, waterworks and everything. They all laughed when I opened it. I excused myself right after and popped to the loos.

They stopped laughing when they realised I'd blown my load on the centrefold.
(Himjim died a little more inside on, Thu 21 Dec 2006, 11:06, Reply)

How wrong could I be...
1) My first year out of Uni in a proper job; a month into the job I get the office bike as my secret Santa. I bought her a pregnancy kit. I thought it was comic genuis. She burst into tears and spent the rest of the day in the toilet. Being the last day of work, we all go for beer afterwards and I learn a couple of things.

I had no idea she was shagging the married MD and was pregnant with his baby. She must have thought that I was going to blackmail her.

Ah well...

2) I was once working for a German company, and the boss woman was a bi-atch. I came in on the last day before Xmas, and she hands me the company envelope. I hand her what looks like an Xmas card.

Her's contained £200 cash, with a note on how well I had been performing.

The one I gave to her expained how she could insert her head up her arse, that she could take this as my official resignation and include one of those Xmas clip-on moustaches trimmed to look like Hitler's tash.

Fair swap, I feel...
(gjb006, Sun 17 Dec 2006, 21:24, Reply)

The brother, the one I don't really get on with...
For his 16th Christmas I decided to treat the unamusing little oik. Knowing the closest he had ever been to a woman was furtively frotting whilst on a busy bus, I compiled a little shopping list, and procured a sturdy shoe-box.

I also had to brave the shops. But it was worth it.

My list?

KY jelly
Cucumber - whole, green and as broad as a Berwick accent
Cream eclair - fresh
Latex gloves
A couple of soft-prawn mags
A blow-up doll
Some prophelactics - ribbed, for her pleasure
A tin of spam
Liver - 500g, lambs
Half a melon, Galia, if memory serves
Squirty cream - one tin

I ensured he opened it in front of the whole family. Job's a good 'un.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Sat 16 Dec 2006, 9:39, Reply)

Bad taste suggestions
Something to offend everyone of every creed, sex and faith:

1) Baby bootees for the childless 50 year-old female accountant just hitting menopause
2) Pregnacy tester and baby names book for the office slapper
3) A Koran for the office Christian
4) A framed Mohammed caricature for the office Muslim
5) Jordan and Peter Andre CD for the music lover
6) Anti-perspirant, soap and flannel for the office minger
7) Anti-dandruff shampoo and clothes brush for the flaker
8) Manchester United top for anyone who loves football
9) Socks and bra for the flat-chested girl
10) Socks and pants for the (male) boss
(frankspencer, Fri 15 Dec 2006, 13:08, Reply)