That last brings back a memory.
It was 1972 and my fraternity house always hosted a bunch of kids from a local orphanage for a Christmas party. That year, unfortunately, the brother playing Santa Claus happened upon a bottle of Beaujolais while getting changed. He polished it off, struggled into his outfit, and staggered down the stairs. Upon seeing the kids he called out “Ho F**king ho, kids!”, missed the bottom step and fell flat on his face. That was the last time the orphanage showed up at the house.
From then on he had a new nickname. Uninformed persons always thought that we called him “Ho” because his name was “Jose” ....