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    Talking "TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS" Collection ...

    Twas The Night Before Christmas (Texas Style)

    'Twas the night before Christmas, in Texas, you know.
    Way out on the prairie, without any snow.
    Asleep in their cabin, were Buddy and Sue,
    A dreamin' of Christmas, like me and you.

    Not stockings, but boots, at the foot of their bed,
    For this was Texas, what more need be said,
    When all of a sudden, from out of the still night,
    There came such a ruckus, it gave me a fright.
    And I saw 'cross the prairie, like a shot from a gun,
    A loaded up buckboard, come on at a run,

    The driver was "Geein" and "Hawin", with a will,
    The horses (not reindeer) he drove with such skill.
    "Come on there Buck, Poncho, & Prince, to the right,
    There'll be plenty of travelin' for you all tonight."
    The driver in Levi's and a shirt that was red,
    Had a ten-gallon Stetson on top of his head.

    As he stepped from the buckboard, he was really a sight,
    With his beard and moustache, so curly and white.
    As he burst in the cabin, the children awoke,
    And were so astonished, that neither one spoke.

    And he filled up their boots with such presents galore,
    That neither could think of a single thing more.
    When Buddy recovered the use of his jaws,
    He asked in a whisper, "Are you really Santa Claus?"

    "Am I the real Santa? Well, what do you think?"
    And he smiled as he gave a mysterious wink.
    Then he leaped in his buckboard, and called back in his drawl,
    "To all the children in Texas, Merry Christmas, You-all"


    __________________


    Programmer's Night Before Christmas

    'Twas the night before implementation and all through the house,
    Not a program was working not even a browse.
    The programmers hung by their tubes in despair,
    with hopes that a miracle would soon be there.

    The users were nestled all sung in their beds,
    while visions of inquiries danced in their heads.
    When out in the machine room there arose such a clatter,
    I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.

    And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
    but a super programmer (with a six-pack of beer).
    His resume glowed with experience so rare,
    he turned out great code with a bit-pusher's flair.

    More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,
    and he cursed and muttered and called them by name:
    On update! on add! on inquiry! on delete!
    on batch jobs! on closing! on functions complete!

    His eyes were glazed-over, fingers nimble and lean,
    from weekends and nights in front of a screen.
    A wink of his eye, and a twitch of his head,
    soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

    He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
    turning specs into code; then turned with a jerk;
    And laying his finger upon the "ENTER" key,
    the systems came up and worked perfectly.

    The updates updated; the deletes, they deleted;
    the inquiries inquired, and closings completed.
    He tested each whistle, and tested each bell,
    with nary an abend, and all had gone well.

    The system was finished, the tests were concluded.
    The users' last changes were even included.
    And the user exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,
    "It's just what I asked for, but not what I want!"


    __________________


    A Politically Correct Christmas

    'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
    How to live in a world that's politically correct?
    His workers no longer would answer to "Elves",
    "Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.

    And labor conditions at the north pole
    Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
    Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
    Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.

    And equal employment had made it quite clear
    That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
    So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
    Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

    The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
    The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
    And people had started to call for the cops
    When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.

    Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
    His fur trimmed red suit was called Unenlightened."

    And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
    Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
    And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
    Demanding millions in over-due compensation.

    So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
    Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,
    Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
    Demanding from now on her title was Ms.

    And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
    That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
    Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
    Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

    Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
    Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
    Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
    Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.

    Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
    Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.
    No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth
    Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.

    And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
    Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
    For they raised the hackles of those psychological
    Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

    No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
    Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
    Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
    And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.

    So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
    He just could not figure out what to do next.
    He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
    But you've got to be careful with that word today.

    His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
    Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
    Something special was needed, a gift that he might
    Give to all without angering the left or the right.

    A gin that would satisfy, with no indecision,
    Each group of people, every religion;
    Every ethnicity, every hue,
    Everyone, everywhere...even you.
    So here is that gin, it's price beyond worth...

    May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

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  3. #2
    Jolie Rouge's Avatar
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    AN ARKANSAS CHRISTMAS

    'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,
    AND ALL THROUGH THE SHACK,
    NOT A DARN THING WAS A MOVIN',
    FROM THE FRONT TO THE BACK.

    THE KIDS WERE IN BED,
    WE HAD NINE AT THE TIME,
    THE WIFE IN HER CURLERS,
    WAS LOOKIN' REAL FINE.

    A COLD WIND WAS BLOWIN',
    UP THE HOLLER IT MOANED,
    TEN DOGS ON THE PORCH
    ALL HOWLED AND GROANED.

    THE BOYS WERE ALL DREAMIN'
    OF WEAPONS AND GUNS,
    FOR KILLIN' GOD'S CREATURES,
    THERE'S NO BETTER FUN!

    THE GIRLS IN THEIR FEMININE DREAMS
    WERE ATTUNED,
    TO GETTING THOSE GALLONS
    OF WAL-MART PERFUME.

    THE WIFE WANTED JEWELRY,
    LIKE RINGS WITH BIG ROCKS.
    I JUST WANTED MY CHEVY
    DOWN OFF OF THEM BLOCKS.

    THEN OUT IN YARD,
    SUCH A NOISE DID COMMENCE,
    LIKE SOMETHING WAS CAUGHT IN
    OUR NEW BOB-WAR FENCE.

    I RAN TO THE WINDOW,
    AND SAW PRETTY QUICK,
    THE MAN MAKIN' THAT RACKET,
    WAS GOOD OL' ST. NICK.

    YOU MAY THINK OF SANTA IN
    YOU OWN MIND'S EYE,
    DRESSED IN A RED AND WHITE SUIT,
    BUT I'VE GOT A SURPRISE.

    THAT OLD BOY'S AN ARKIE,
    FROM UP NEAR MT. GAYLOR,
    HE MARRIED HIS COUSIN,
    AND THEY LIVE IN A TRAILER.

    ON CHRISTMAS, OF COURSE,
    A SLEIGH FOR HIS RIG,
    HE HOOKS THE THING UP
    TO A RAZORBACK PIG!

    HE CLIMBED ON THE ROOF,
    WITH HIS BAG FULL OF GOODIES,
    HE BACKED DOWN THE FIREPLACE,
    ALL DIRTY AND SOOTY.

    FAT LEGS IN HIS BRITCHES,
    CHUBBY HANDS IN HIS MITTENS, I
    MUST ADMIT FROM THE BACK,
    HE LOOKED LOTS LIKE BILL CLINTON.

    HE TURNED TOWARD THE TREE,
    HIS EYES ALL AGLOW,
    HE WAS AN ARKANSAS BOY
    FROM HIS HEAD TO HIS TOE.

    HIS NECK WAS A RED ONE,
    HIS SHIRT SAID "LITE BEER",
    HE HAD NO RED HAT ON,
    BUT HIS CAP READ "JOHN DEERE".

    HE LEFT ALL THE PRESENTS,
    WITH AN AIR OF DELIGHT,
    THEN IT WAS BACK TO THE CHIMNEY,
    AND INTO THE NIGHT.

    HE RAN INTO THE YARD,
    THREW HIS BAG IN THE SLEIGH,
    THEN HE YELLED AT THE DOGS,
    "GET THE HELL OUT TH' WAY!"

    I RAN OUT TO ASK HIM
    WHY HE BROUGHT SUCH GOOD CHEER;
    BUT INSTEAD HE JUST ASKED ME,
    "YOU GET YOU A DEER?"

    THEN I HEARD HIM EXCLAIM,
    AS THOSE PIGS TOOK FLIGHT,

    "MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL...I NEED A BUD LITE!"




    Twas the Night Before Christmas (OBGYN STYLE)

    TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS AND UP ON OB
    A NURSE YELLED "THICK MEC, I NEED A DELEE"

    IV'S WITH PITOCIN
    WERE ALL HUNG WITH CARE
    IN HOPES THEY'LL DELIVER
    AND STOP PULLING THEIR HAIR

    THE WOMEN WERE SCREAMING
    IN THEIR BIRTHING BEDS
    WHILE VISIONS OF EPIDURALS
    DANCED IN THEIR HEADS

    THE STAFFING IS SHORT
    WITH NO ONE ON CALL
    EVERY WARMER IS DIRTY
    AND SITS IN THE HALL

    JUST WHEN I THOUGHT
    THERE'S AN END TO THIS HELL
    THE PATIENT IN TRIAGE
    HAS A MAJOR DECEL

    SO WE RUSH WITH A GURNEY
    AND RACE TO THE BACK
    THE O.R. IS DIRTY
    NOT ONE SECTION PACK

    I DROPPED TO MY KNEES
    AND I STARTED TO CRY
    WHEN I HEARD THE BELLS JINGLE
    AND LOOKED TOWARD THE SKY

    THERE WAS ST. NICK
    ON HIS SLEIGH IN THE REAR
    HE HAD SIX SMILING NURSES
    THE NIGHT SHIFT IS HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!


    __________________


    The Night Before Chanukah

    'Twas the night before Chanukah, boichiks and maidels
    Not a sound could be heard, not even the dreidels
    The menorah was set by the chimney alight
    In the kitchen, the Bubbie was hopping a bite
    Salami, Pastrami, a glaisele tay
    And zoyere pickles mit bagels-- Oy vay!



    Gezint and geschmock the kinderlach felt
    While dreaming of taiglach and Chanukah gelt
    The alarm clock was sitting, a kloppin' and tickin'
    And Bubbie was carving a shtickele chicken
    A tummel arose, like the wildest k'duchas
    Santa had fallen right on his tuchas!


    I put on my slippers, ains, tzvay, drei
    While Bubbie was eating herring on rye
    I grabbed for my bathrobe and buttoned my gottkes
    And Bubbie was just devouring the latkes
    To the window I ran, and to my surprise
    A little red yarmulka greeted my eyes.



    When he got to the door and saw the menorah
    "Yiddishe kinder," he cried, "Kenahorah!"
    I thought I was in a Goyishe hoise!
    As long as I'm here, I'll leave a few toys."
    "Come into the kitchen, I'll get you a dish
    Mit a gupel, a leffel, and a shtickele fish."



    With smacks of delight he started his fressen
    Chopped liver, knaidlach, and kreplach gegessen
    Along with his meal he had a few schnapps
    When it came to eating, this boy sure was tops
    He asked for some knishes with pepper and salt
    But they were so hot he yelled out "Gevalt!"



    He loosened his hoysen and ran from the tish
    "Your koshereh meals are simply delish!"
    As he went through the door he said "See y'all later
    I'll be back next Pesach in time for the seder!"
    So, hutzmir and zeitzmir and "Bleibtz mir gezint"
    he called out cheerily into the wind.



    More rapid than eagles, his prancers they came
    As he whistled and shouted and called them by name
    "Come, Izzie, now Moishe, now Yossel and Sammy!
    On Oyving, and Maxie, and Hymie and Manny!"
    He gave a geshrai, as he drove out of sight
    "A gut yontiff to all, and to all a good night!"



    ~~Anon
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

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    A NASCAR CHRISTMAS.....

    Twas the Race before Christmas and all through the track
    Each driver was ready to make his attack.
    The tires had been stacked by the pit crew with care

    With hopes none of them would run out of air.
    The drivers were belted all snug in their seats

    Where visions of checkered flags looked mighty sweet.

    When out of the infield there rose such a clatter
    The crowd sprang to their feet to see what was the matter.
    What sight met their wondering eyes as they rose
    Twas Rusty Wallace punching somebody's nose.

    With eyes like the eagles the spotters they came
    And they turned on their headsets and called them by name
    "On Spencer! On Petty! On Rudd and Jarrett! "On Cope! On Speed! On Ward and Jeff Burton! At the top of the curve ran 'em into the wall!

    Now gentlemen, start your engines all!"

    More rapid than lightning the Iceman they flew
    With a sack full of cash and the Winston Cup too.
    And then in a twinkling there came to the front
    The bright rainbow colors of Gordon's DuPont.

    Then Bobby Labonte flew by in a flash
    While Martin had a breakdown and Spencer a crash.
    Then all at once with a rush and a roar

    There came a new car they had not seen before.

    From bumper to bumper it was painted all red
    North Pole Toy Co.was the sponsor they read.
    With a little old driver so lively and quick
    They all said at once, "Hey, this must be a trick!"

    "A geezer like that shouldn't be driving here!"
    "And why does his pit crew all have pointed ears?"
    The next scheduled pit stop went kinda slow
    For the old fellow stopped at each pit in the row.

    He spent no time at all, but left gas and oil
    A new set of tires, new tools for their toil.
    He asked no endorsement, demanded no fee
    And left only coal for the black #3.

    Childress got on the com and said "Hey Intimidator ...
    Want to chew him up now, or save him for later?"
    Dale spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
    He gave him a nudge, then broadsided the jerk.

    But the old guy escaped with a zig and a zag
    And crossed over the finish line, right at the flag.
    The old man drove straight up to victory lane
    Grabbed up the trophy and drank some champagne.

    Thanked all his sponsors and took the cash too
    Stole a kiss from Brooke Gordon, and then off he flew
    As he sped out of sight, one last cry did they hear.
    "Merry Christmas to all, better luck next year!"


    __________________


    A Lovecraft Christmas
    by Paul M. Lemieux, copyright 1989. ``With apologies to Clement Moore.''

    Twas the night before Yuletide and all through the hole
    Not a creature was stirring, not even a Dhole
    Aldebaren hung at the right place at nine
    In the hopes that Great Cthulhu would come out this time

    The Fungi from Yuggoth, all snug in their caves
    Were plotting to turn all the people to slaves
    The Deep Ones in Rlyeh, the Ghouls in their graves
    Were dancing and singing and acting depraved

    When what do my wondering eyes should appear
    But a mouldering sleigh and eight corpselike reindeer
    With a horrible driver so leprous and reeking
    I knew right away that my fear was unspeaking

    The reindeer were gross, as they flew up from hell
    And It hoarsely whispered and chanted a spell
    Ia Shub Niggurath! Cthulhu ftagn!
    Nyarlathotep! I summon you on!

    As decomposed flesh before the charnel stench rise
    And meet with the open air polluting the skies
    Up to the housetop the horror it rose
    And the gangrenous odors assailed my nose

    And then in a slopping noise heard on the roof
    The lumbering clomping of octopoid hoofs
    As I drew in my head and was turning around
    The horror lurched into my room with a bound

    Its eyes how they pulsate
    So bulbous and gory
    This blasphemous creature
    So noxious and hoary

    I was frozen by fear, my feet woudn't run
    I threw up my cookies, this wasn't much fun
    It whispered my name and said ``You come with I''
    I tried to refuse and it said ``Then you die.''

    It came at my throat with its grim claws extended
    But a miracle saved its victim intended
    I had three Elder Signs in a slot in the floor
    It screamed with a fiendish sound and went out the door

    It sprang to its sleigh, and its team gave a surge
    And away they all flew to the sound of a dirge
    I heard it exclaim as it flew out of sight
    ``You're lucky this time, for the stars weren't right.''


    __________________


    A Goth Christmas ...
    With somber and tormented apologies to Clement C. Moore


    'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through our house
    was blasting the "St. Vitus Dance" by Bauhaus;

    Torn fishnets were draped on my forearms with care,
    And two cans of Aquanet applied to my hair;

    My thoughts were of graveyards, and horror and dread,
    Black visions of pain and despair in my head;

    And Bianca, whose face was as pale as the moon,
    Had thrown up her arm for this evening's swoon,

    When out by the gravestones there came such a clatter,
    I sprang from the coffin to find out the matter.

    Away to the window I flew like a ghost,
    Expecting to find a dark devilish host.

    The moon on the breast of the uncaring snow
    Threw ominous shadows on objects below,

    When, before my tormented eyes did traverse,
    But a gorgeous black Crane & Breed carved-panel hearse,

    With a gaunt, shrouded driver, who filled me with fear,
    And eight skeletal creatures that might have been deer.

    More rapid than vultures his coursers they came,
    And his deep Andrew Eldritch voice called them by name;

    Now, Murphy! Now, Morgoth! Now, Torment and Woe!
    On, Dreadful! On, Lovecraft! Mephisto and Poe!

    To the top of the gravestones where fog wisps its breath!
    With a weight on my soul I consign you to death!

    As dead leaves that before hellish hurricanes fly,
    When they flutter like giant bats' wings to the sky,

    So up to the crypt-top the coursers they leapt,
    While dearest Bianca, like death, still but slept.

    And then, to my horror, I heard on the roof
    The clicking and scratching of each bone-white hoof.

    As I drew in my arm, and was whirling around,
    Down the ebony chimney he came without sound.

    He was clad all in black, and he looked oh-so-goth,
    A billowy ensemble of crushed velvet cloth;

    His boots were knee-high, quite buckled and zipped,
    And the Spandex and fishnets 'round his legs were ripped.

    His eyes glowed with bluish fire, deathly and cold,
    A black eye-liner'd face neither youthful nor old.

    A broad lipless mouth drawn with torment and hurt,
    And his sorrowful face was as white as my shirt.

    A smoldering cigarette tight in his grasp,
    Its smoke curling eerily 'round his cloak clasp;

    His gaunt frame was topped with long ebon hair,
    And a sharp scent of brimstone and cloves choked the air.

    His arms were outspread in the shape of a cross,
    And I quailed when I saw him, feeling sorrow and loss;

    He narrowed his eyes with a twist of his head,
    And I felt the full weight of his angst and dread.

    He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
    Left some Dead Can Dance CD's; before I could ask,

    A single tear fell across his aquiline nose,
    And then, like an angel, up the chimney he rose;

    He sprang to his hearse, to his team he then hissed,
    And away they all drifted like early dawn's mist.

    But I heard him intone, ere he vanished from sight,
    "Gothic Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!"
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

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    A Very Trekkie Christmas

    'Twas the night before Christmas on the Enterprise-D,
    On a routine short hop to Starbase 03,

    With Data on duty in the command chair,
    At Warp 6, the Enterprise soon would be there.

    Just for something to do while the other crew slept,
    He scanned where historical records were kept --

    And with a blink of his eye and a cock of his head,
    "Intriguing! Tomorrow is Christmas!" he said.

    But no one was stirring, and he sought to find why,
    And so he buzzed Geordi, who awoke with a sigh:

    "Christmas? It's only an old holiday --
    Now just let me get back to sleep, okay?"

    "But is to wish Merry Christmas not human to do?"
    And so Data wished it -- to the whole ship and crew.

    Everyone on the Enterprise awoke from this clatter --
    Picard rushed to the bridge to see what was the matter.

    "What is the meaning of this noise, Mister Data?"
    "Sir, is it not Christmas--?" "We'll discuss it much later!"

    Just then Worf said, "Captain -- a Klingon Prey Bird!
    Its hull has been damaged -- it's uncloaking, sir."

    "On screen," said Picard, as the Klingon ship hailed:
    "Federation vessel, our Life Support systems have failed!

    A strange ship attacked us, inflicting the worst,
    (though naturally, of course, we'd fired on it first)."

    The Klingons beamed over, and the senior staff met,
    To try and determine the source of the threat.

    Said Picard, "Mister Data, an assignment for you:
    Give all of these Klingons something to do!

    They think it's the Romulans we should look for,
    Get them all off the bridge, before there's a war!"

    So Data departed, while the rest of the crew
    Wondered: Romulans? Ferengi? If not them, then who?

    Said Worf, "Sir -- disturbance on Holodeck Three!"
    The entire bridge crew ran down there to see.

    Roared Picard, "Mister Data, what the devil is this!!"
    "Sir, I have taught the Klingons how to celebrate Christmas."

    And so there they were -- on holodecks 3, 4 and 5
    With synthohol, singing and Rokeg Blood Pie!

    Soon the Big E was rocking with holiday cheer
    Friend,foe, and family came from both far and near.

    The Romulans showed up with some Romulan Ale,
    The Ferengi brought goodies for free -- not for sale!

    But a strange ship was coming, the captain was told,
    With one crew member only, and a huge cargo hold.

    Said the Klingons, "It's the strange ship that fought us-- attack!"
    Said Picard, "On Christmas? -- Mister Worf, just hold back."

    And then as the ship came into view,
    Onscreen came its captain -- none other than Q!

    He wore a white beard and a suit of deep red...
    "Joyeux Noel, mon captain," was what Santa Q said.

    "Tell those Klingons next time to not go so berserk.
    You need good defense systems in this line of work.

    Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be warping away...
    Did you think anyone else could do this job in one day?"

    "I'm sensing emotion," said Counselor Troi,
    "Peace in the galaxy, Good Will and Joy."

    And they stood on the bridge and watched Q take flight,
    shouting,
    "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!"


    -------------------------


    [b]The Night Before Christmas (TNG)

    'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the ship
    Not a circuit was buzzing, not one iso-chip;
    The phasers were hung in the arm'ry securely,
    In hope that no aliens would get up that early.

    The crewmen were nestled all snug in their bunks
    (Except for the few who were partying drunks);
    And Picard in his nightshirt and Bev in her lace,
    Had just settled down for a neat face-to-face...

    When out in the halls there arose such a racket,
    That we leapt from our beds, pulling on pants and jacket.
    Away to the lifts we all shot like a gun,
    Leapt into the cars and yelled loudly, "Deck One!".

    The bridge Red-Alert lights, which flashed through the din,
    Gave a luster of Hades to objects within.
    When, what, on the viewscreen, should our eyes behold,
    But a weird kind of sleigh, and some geek who looked old.

    But the glint in his eyes was so strange and askew,
    That we knew in a moment it had to be Q.
    His sleigh grew much larger as closer he came.
    Then he zapped on the bridge and addressed us by name;

    "It's Riker! It's Data! It's Worf and Jean-Luc!
    It's Geordi! And Wesley, the genetic fluke!
    To the top of the bridge, to the top of the hall!
    Now float away, float away, float away all!

    As leaves in autumn are whisked off the street,
    So the floor of the bridge came away from our feet,
    And up to the ceiling our bodies they flew,
    As the captain called out, "What the hell is this Q?!".
    The prankster just laughed and expanded his grin,
    And, snapping his fingers, he vanished again.

    As we took in our plight and were looking around,
    The spell was removed, and we crashed to the ground.
    Then Q, dressed in fur from his head to his toe,
    Appeared once again to continue the show.

    "That's enough!" cried the captain, "You'll stop this at once!",
    And Riker said, "Worf! Take your aim at this dunce!",
    "I'm deeply offended, Jean-Luc," replied Q.
    "I just wanted to spend Christmas with you."

    As we scoffed at his words, he produced a large sack.
    He dumped out the contents, and took a step back.
    "I've brought gifts," he said, "just to show I'm sincere.
    There's something delightful for everyone here."
    He sat on the floor and dug into the pile,
    And handed out gifts with his most charming smile.

    "For Counselor Troi, there's no need to explain,
    Here's Tylenol-Beta for all of your pain.
    For Worf I've got mints as his breath's not too great,
    And for Geordi LaForge, an inflatable date.

    For Wesley, some hormones, and Clearasil-Plus;
    For Data, a joke book; for Riker, a truss.
    For Beverly Crusher, there's sleek lingerie,
    And for Jean-Luc, the thrill of seeing her that way."

    Then he sprang to his feet with that grin on his face,
    And, clapping his hands, disappeared into space.
    But we heard him exclaim as he dwindled form sight,
    "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good flight!!"



    The Night Before Christmas (TOS)

    'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the decks
    Not a crewman was stirring, 'cept those having sex;
    Their boots were all placed by the vent shafts with care,
    In hopes that by morning they'd get some fresh air.

    The Redshirts were nestled all snug in their beds,
    While visions of stay'ng alive danced in their heads;
    And Kirk in his gold shirt, McCoy in his blue,
    Had just settled down for a nice Christmas brew--

    When from the comm panel there came such a wail,
    They sprang from their chairs, knocking over their ale.
    Away to the panel Kirk flew, drenched in beer,
    Snapped on the comm switch and barked loudly, "Kirk here!"

    The squeals that emerged from the thing after that
    Sounded just like the Devil was strangling a cat;
    When, what to their bombarded ears should appear,
    But the music of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,"

    With a voice in the background, a murmur of talk,
    That made Kirk exclaim, "Bones... That sounds just like Spock."
    More rapid than bullets his syllables came
    As he tested each circuit and called it by name--

    "Cross Alpha to Beta, join Delta to Theta,
    Route Kappa through Lamba, and Gamma to Zeta.
    To the end of the circuit, the end of the line,
    Now clip a resistor--there. That should do fine."

    As Kirk and McCoy listened closely to this,
    The comm unit speaker let out a long hiss.
    So, off to the turbolift both of them flew,
    With a mind to discover what Spock was up to.

    And then, in a twinkling, they reached the bridge deck,
    Stepped out of the lift and began a quick check.
    As they went down the steps and were looking around,
    From a nook Spock emerged, barely making a sound.

    He was all dressed in gray from his head to his foot,
    And his clothes were all tarnished with solder and soot.
    A bag of components he had in one fist,
    And held in the other, a rather long list.

    His eyes didn't twinkle, his dimples were none,
    Yet somehow it looked like he'd been having fun.
    His mouth, at one corner, quirked up just a touch,
    And one eyebrow lifted, though not by too much.

    A soldering iron he held in his teeth,
    And the smoke from it circled his head like a wreath.
    He looked like a man with a task to complete
    And nothing would stop him, not rain, snow, nor sleet.

    His two colleagues stood there, dumbfounded by this.
    McCoy chuckled softly; Kirk let out hiss.
    The look in Spock's eye and the set of his head
    Soon gave them to know he would not go to bed.

    He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
    And tuned all the sensors then turned back to Kirk,
    And pressing a button and counting to three,
    He lit up the bridge like a huge Christmas Tree.

    His work done, he nodded, and walked toward the lift
    As his friends stared in awe at his luminous gift.
    But they heard him exclaim, his voice with good-will rife,
    "Merry Christmas! And to you all, Peace and Long Life!"
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    The Stardate Before Christmas

    Twas a stardate before Christmas and all through the ship
    nothing was moving not even Miles' pips
    The phasers were hung in the arsenal that night
    in hopes that poor Worf would win just one fight

    The crewmen were all asleep in their beds
    While Data calculated PI in his head
    And I, in my ready room, with my eyes all bloodshot
    had just settled down to some tea, Earl Grey, hot

    When out on the main sensors arose such a clatter
    you'd have thought that Geordi mixed matter/antimatter
    Then what to my wandering eyes should appear
    But a man dressed in gold with Spock and his ears

    He gestured, his mouth opened, but I heard not a word
    then slowly, distinctly, his voice could be heard
    "Christmas...future...you sure Spock?", he said almost appalled
    "My...God...Spock....Look!.....I've gone bald!"

    "Logically, sir", Spock murmured, "It's not all that hard."
    "Captain Kirk, I'd like you to meet Captain Picard."
    "Ah...yes..James T.", he offered with ease
    With hand on his phaser, "We come in Peace"

    Spock spoke not a word as I went straight to my pin
    "Worf, it is time to have your butt kicked, again!"
    You see, I wasn't sure if this Kirk was for real
    the transporter, you know, had once made him evil

    While shaking his head with more gestures he made
    said over dramatically, "Donotbe.........afraid!"
    I jumped to my feet, tugged my shirt as I spoke
    "Q, show yourself! Is this some kind of a joke?"

    "A Joke? An anecdote? A witticism or a humorous pun?"
    Spock said, "I think not, Vulcans just aren't that fun."
    He raised an eyebrow, "Picard, we're really not sure"
    but we think we've been sent by the ghost of xmas future"

    Then just when I thought it couldn't get any worse
    the silence was broken by a very loud curse
    He appeared dressed in blue and his temper was huge
    "Dammit, I'm a doctor! I am not a scrooge!"

    As if that wasn't enough, Worf strolled from the bridge
    in his emergency walk and head full of ridge
    "A....Klingon!", Kirk shouted, as Spock grabbed in restraint
    but it was too late as Worf started to faint

    The doctor rushed to his side as Kirk looked down upon him
    "He's been frightened, for sure, but he's not dead, Jim!"
    With much disgust, I gave a slap of my head
    If only, I thought, Tasha weren't dead

    I confronted the trio and Kirk got a look of surprise
    as I asked, "What are you doing here on the Enterprise?"
    "This...is...the..Enterprise?", he asked almost with glee
    "Yes, Captain Kirk", I confirmed, "The Enterprise-D."

    "Spock, could it be possible, I've been sent to demand
    that I take this Enterprise as my next form of command?"
    I'd been holding my anger but it started to slip
    "I will not allow you to take over my ship"

    Kirk's eyes lit up as he said with a smirk
    "You won't be around long wearing that red shirt"
    "Captain Kirk", I chuckled, "you really ought to be told"
    "The security team here now dresses in gold"

    The grin came off of his face cause even he had to know
    If someone got killed he would be the first to go
    Spock quickly interrupted, "Jim, I believe we have been sent
    by the apparition of Christmas to show how it might be spent"

    Kirk looked at him with a puzzling gaze
    then back at me in an obvious daze
    "Spock....canitbe.....Arewe....stillalive?"
    He pondered, "Werewe...ableto.....survive?"

    "Yes, Spock is here", I said, "Admiral McCoy, and Mr. Scott, too"
    "The writers haven't told us what happened to the rest of your crew"
    "I think, sir" Spock continued, "though some of us may be gone"
    "The ghost wanted to show that our legacy lives on"

    Kirk thought for a moment then said "Though we've come far,"
    "I see what you mean, Spock, we're still cruising the stars"
    "Christmas future will be shaped as we continue to explore"
    "Where possibilities are endless and no one has gone before"

    Then came a power much like a nebula storm
    out of a brilliant light stood an alien life form
    It gestured at Spock and McCoy, in a flash they beamed out
    Now only Kirk stood before me in somewhat of a pout

    "Captain Picard, It seems that I must go"
    All I could say was "Captain Kirk, make it so"
    Kirk could be heard as he beamed into a speck
    "Merry Christmas to all and keep up the Star Trek"


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    'Twas The Night Before Christmas, Legal Version
    Author Unknown


    Whereas, on or about the night prior to Christmas, there did occur at a certain improved piece of real property (hereinafter “the House”) a general lack of stirring by all creatures therein, including, but not limited to a mouse. A variety of foot apparel, e.g. stocking, socks, etc., had been affixed by and around the chimney in said House in the hope and/or belief that St. Nick a/k/a/ St. Nicholas a/k/a/ Santa Claus (hereinafter “Claus”) would arrive at sometime thereafter. The minor residents, i.e. the children, of the aforementioned House, were located in their individual beds and were engaged in nocturnal hallucinations, i.e. dreams, wherein vision of confectionery treats, including, but not limited to, candies, nuts and/or sugar plums, did dance, cavort and otherwise appear in said dreams. Whereupon the party of the first part (sometimes hereinafter referred to as “I”), being the joint-owner in fee simple of the House with the parts of the second part (hereinafter “Mamma”), and said Mamma had retired for a sustained period of sleep. (At such time, the parties were clad in various forms of headgear, e.g. kerchief and cap.) Suddenly, and without prior notice or warning, there did occur upon the unimproved real property adjacent and appurtent to said House, i.e. the lawn, a certain disruption of unknown nature, cause and/or circumstance. The party of the first part did immediately rush to a window in the House to investigate the cause of such disturbance. At that time, the party of the first part did observe, with some degree of wonder and/or disbelief, a miniature sleigh (hereinafter the “Vehicle”) being pulled and/or drawn very rapidly through the air by approximately eight (8) reindeer. The driver of the Vehicle appeared to be and in fact was, the previously referenced Claus. Said Claus was providing specific direction, instruction and guidance to the approximately eight (8) reindeer and specifically identified the animal co-conspirators by name: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder and Blitzen (hereinafter the “Deer”). (Upon information and belief, it is further asserted that an additional co-conspirator named Rudolph may have been involved.) The party of the first part witnessed Claus, the Vehicle and the Deer intentionally and willfully trespass upon the roofs of several residences located adjacent to and in the vicinity of the House, and noted that the Vehicle was heavily laden with packages, toys and other items of unknown origin or nature. Suddenly, without prior invitation or permission, either express or implied, the Vehicle arrived at the House, and Claus entered said House via the chimney. Said Claus was clad in a red fur suit, which was partially covered with residue from the chimney, and he carried a large sack containing a portion of the aforementioned packages, toys, and other unknown items. He was smoking what appeared to be tobacco in a small pipe in blatant violation of local ordinances and health regulations. Claus did not speak, but immediately began to fill the stocking of the minor children, which hung adjacent to the chimney, with toys and other small gifts. (Said items did not, however, constitute “gifts” to said minor pursuant to the applicable provisions of the U.S. Tax Code.) Upon completion of such task, Claus touched the side of his nose and flew, rose and/or ascended up the chimney of the House to the roof where the Vehicle and Deer waited and/or served as “lookouts.” Claus immediately departed for an unknown destination. However, prior to the departure of the Vehicle, Deer and Claus from said House, the party of the first part did hear Claus state and/or exclaim: “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!” Or words to that effect.


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    The Intellectual's Christmas

    THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

    'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence, kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as musculus. Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among whose folkloric appelations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.
    The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebrums. My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head coverings, were about to take slumbrous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacaphony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.

    Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself, thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive specimens of the genus rangifer, piloted by a miniscule, aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller. With his ungulate motive power traveling at what may have more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen: Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer, etc., through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.

    As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a 180 degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved, with utmost celerity and via a downward leap, entry by way of the smoke passage. He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebon residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle.

    His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of albions floral emblem, the latter that of the prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.

    Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smokingpiece whose gray fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container. He was, in short, neither more or less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me risibly rolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly to one side he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.

    Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned hosiery with various of the aforementioned articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of his task, he executed an abrupt about face, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his miniscule forward in a gesture of leave taking, and forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating in reverse the smoke passage. He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility, "Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that selfsame assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn."
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    T'was The Night In The Casino
    by Guide Bill Burton

    T'was the night before Christmas, I hit the Casino,
    I went there to play, More than just Keno.

    The dealers were assigned to their tables with care.
    Chatting with patrons who were gambling there.
    I walked to the Slots and started to Play.
    I had a feeling this would be my Day.

    I put in my coins and gave the handle a Yank.
    As the coins started dropping I heard them go "Clank.
    " The wheels started spinning, they whirled and they glowed.
    Alas! I saw three 7's..lined up in a row.

    The lights started flashing, the bells all were ringing,
    Out came the Jackpot with that old familiar jingling.
    I reached down and scooped up all of my winnings.
    I headed for the tables.. I couldn't stop grinning.

    A table was open so I sat for Blackjack,
    Put down money for chips and purchased a stack.
    The Dealer was smiling, I was having such Fun.
    Drew a Jack then an Ace, I had Twenty One!

    Now off to Roulette but which numbers to Choose?
    The way things were going I just couldn't Lose.
    I watched the ball spinning, it clicked and it Popped.
    Right into my number, that little ball dropped.

    "Thirty five to One", the dealer pushed me my chips.
    Then she said, "Thanks!" for the Toke that I flipped.
    Then out on the Floor, I heard such a Clatter
    . I rushed to the Craps Table, to see what was the Matter.

    There was this Fat Guy so lively and quick,
    I thought to myself, he looks like Saint Nick.
    I watched the dice as they flew from his hand.
    He made his point, ever time they'd Land.

    "Place the Six and the Eight and a Dollar on YO!
    "He blew on the dice before letting them Go.
    "To some these dice are more Fun than Toys.
    I almost Forgot, Hard Six for the Boys!"

    He handled the Bones so smooth and so Swift.
    The timing was right, To ask for a Gift.
    "Oh Santa please share some of your Lucky Charm.
    He whispered to me, as he took my Arm.

    "If you want to keep winning when rolling the Dice,
    Just listen to Santa and heed my Advice.
    ""I've learned from the Experts, Frome, Griffen and Wong.
    The secret of winning is PRACTICE hard and long."

    "You MUST use your head and this is no Fable.
    If your Luck starts to turn, You must leave the Table"
    In the Blink of an eye he was headed for the Door.
    I pleaded with Santa, "Please, Tell me more!”

    He called back to me, as he flew out of sight.
    "Every day will be Christmas, If you Learn to play the game Right"

    I wish you all a Happy Holiday and a "Lucky" New Year!!


    -----------------------



    A Redneck Christmas

    'Twas the night before Christmas
    And all through the trailer
    Not a creature was stirrin'
    'Cept a redneck named Taylor.

    His first name was Bubba,
    Joe was his middle,
    And a-runnin' down his chin
    Was a trickle of spittle.

    His socks, they were hung
    by the chimney with care,
    And therefore there was
    a foul stench in the air.

    From out in the yard
    There came such a noise
    That Bubba got scared
    And rousted the boys.

    There was Rufus, 12;
    Jim Bob was 11;
    Dud goin' on 10;
    Otis was 7.

    John, George and Chucky
    Were 5,4, and 3:
    The twins were both girls
    So they let them be.

    They jumped in their overalls,
    No need for a shirt,
    Threw a hat on each head,
    Then turned with a jerk.

    They ran to the gun rack
    That hung on the wall.
    There were 17 shotguns;
    They grabbed them all.

    Bubba said to the young'uns,
    "Now hesh up y'all!
    The last thing we wanna do
    Is wake up yer Maw."

    Maw was expecting
    And needed her sleep,
    So out they crept out the door
    Without making a peep.

    They all looked around,
    and then they all spit.
    The young'uns asked Bubba,
    "Paw, what is it?"

    Bubba just stared;
    He could not say a word.
    This was just like all of
    The stories he'd heard.

    It was Santy Claus on the roof,
    Darn tootin'
    But the boys didn't know;
    They was about to start shootin'!

    They aimed their shotguns
    and nearly made a mistake
    That would have resulted
    in venison steak.

    Bubba hollered out,
    "Don't shoot, boys!"
    That's Santy Claus
    And he's brought us some toys.

    The dogs were a-barkin'
    And a-raisin' cain,
    And Bubba whistled, and shouted,
    And called them by name.

    "Down, Spot! Shut up Bullet!
    Quiet, Pete and Roscoe!
    Git, Turnip and Tater
    and Sam and old Joe!"

    "Git down from that porch!
    Git down off that wall!
    Quit shakin the trailer,
    Or you'll make Santy fall!"

    The dogs kept a-barkin'
    And wouldn't shut up,
    And they trampled poor Pete
    Who was only a pup.

    Santy opened his bag,
    And threw out some toys.
    Bubba got most,
    But left a few for the boys.

    From up on the roof
    Santa heaved a great sigh.
    Since the guns had been dropped
    He just might not die.

    He jumped in his sleigh,
    Told his reindeer to hurry.
    The trailer started to wobble
    Santa started to worry.

    Just as the reindeer
    Got into the air,
    The trailer collapsed,
    But Bubba didn't care.

    He was busy lookin'
    At all his new toys.
    Then a thought hit him,
    And he said to the boys:

    "Go check on yer Maw,
    Make sure she's all right.
    That roof fallin' on her
    Could-a hurt just a might."

    But Maw was OK,
    And the girls were too.
    They fixed up the trailer;
    It looked good as new.

    And as for Bubba,
    He liked Old St. Nick,
    But Santa thought Bubba
    Was a pure-in-tee hick!

    Bubba had a nice Christmas,
    And the boys did, too.
    And the Taylors wish
    A Merry Christmas to you!

    --------------------------------


    Twas a Florida Christmas


    T'was the night before Christmas and all through the town,
    no noses were frozen, no snow fluttered down,
    no children in flannels were tucked into bed,
    they all wore shorty pajamas instead.


    To find wreaths of holly, t'was not very hard,
    for holly trees grew in every back yard.
    In front of the houses, Dads and Moms were
    adorning the bushes and coconut palms.


    The sleeping kiddies were dreaming in glee,
    hoping to find water skis under the tree.
    They all knew that Santa was well on his way,
    in a Mercedes-Benz, instead of a sleigh.


    And soon he arrived and started to work,
    he hadn't a second to linger or shirk.
    He whizzed up the highways and zoomed up the road,
    in a S-L 300, delivering his loads.


    The tropical moon gave the city a glow,
    and lighted the way for old Santa below.
    As he jumped from the auto he gave a wee chuckle,
    he was dressed in Bermudas with an Ivy league buckle,


    There weren't any chimneys, but that caused no gloom,
    for Santa came in through the Florida room.
    He stopped at each house....stayed only a minute,
    emptying his sack of stuff that was in it.


    Before he departed, he treated himself
    to a glass of papaya juice upon the shelf.
    He turned with a jerk and bounced to the car,
    remembering he still had to go very far.


    He shifted the gears and stepped on the gas
    and up Highway 436 he went like a flash.
    And I heard him exclaim as he went on his way,
    "MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL, I WISH I COULD STAY!"
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

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    Have A Stealth Christmas


    'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the skies,
    Air defenses were up, with electronic eyes.
    Combat pilots were nestled in ready-room beds,
    As enemy silhouettes danced in their heads.

    Every jet on the apron, each SAM in its tube,
    Was triply-redundant linked to the Blue Cube,
    And ElInt and AWACS gave coverage so dense,
    That nothing that flew could slip through our defense.

    When out of the klaxon arose such a clatter,
    I dashed to the screen to see what was the matter.
    I dialed up the gain and then quick as a flash,
    Fine-adjusted the filters to damp out the hash.

    And there found the source of the warning we'd heeded:
    An incoming blip, by eight escorts preceded.
    "Alert status red!" went the word down the wire,
    As we gave every system the codes that meant "FIRE"!

    On Aegis! Up Patriot, Phalanx and Hawk!
    And scramble our fighters -- let's send the whole flock!
    Launch decoys and missiles! Use chaff by the yard!
    Get the kitchen sink up! Call the National Guard!

    They turned toward the target, moved toward it, converged,
    Till the tracks on the radar all finally merged.
    And the sky was lit up with a demonic light,
    As the foe met his fate in the high arctic night.

    So we sent out some recon to look for debris,
    Yet all that they found, both on land and on sea,
    Were some toys, a red hat, a charred left leather boot,
    Broken sleighbells, white hair, and a deer's parachute.

    Now it isn't quite Christmas, with Saint Nick shot down.
    There are unhappy kids in each village and town.
    For the Spirit of Christmas can't hope to evade,
    All the web of defenses we've carefully made.

    Just look how the gadgets we use to protect us,
    In other ways alter, transform, and affect us.
    They keep us from things that make life more worth living,
    Like love for each other, and thoughts of just giving.

    But a crash program's on: Working hard, night and day,
    All the elves are constructing a radar-proof sleigh.
    So let's wait for next Christmas, in cheer and in health,
    For the future has hope: Santa's coming by stealth!


    __________________



    Twas The Night Before Y2K

    'Twas the night before Y2K,
    And all through the nation
    We awaited The Bug,
    The Millennium sensation.

    The chips were replaced
    In computers with care,
    In hopes that ol' Bugsy
    Wouldn't stop there.

    While some folks did drink
    And were snug in their beds
    Most others had visions
    Of dread in their heads.

    And Ma with her WinTel,
    And I with my Mac
    Had just safely logged off
    To kick back a snack.

    When o'er at the server,
    There arose such a clatter
    I called Mister Gates
    To see what was the matter.

    But dial-tone was missing,
    So I flew like a flash
    Off to my bank
    To withdraw all my cash.

    When what with my wandering eyes
    Should appear?
    My once trusty old Mac
    As sick as I feared.

    The Mother of all hacks,
    It installed there so smug,
    I knew that it must be
    The Y2K Bug!

    His image downloaded
    In no time at all,
    He whistled and shouted,
    Let all systems fall!

    No Intel! No Gateway!
    Now HP! Big Blue!
    Everything Compaq,
    And Pentium too!

    All processors big,
    All processors small,
    Crash away! Crash away!
    Crash away all!

    All the controls
    That planes need for their flights
    All microwaves, trains
    And all traffic lights.

    As I drew in my breath
    And was turning around,
    Out through the modem,
    He came with a bound.

    He was covered with fur,
    And slung on his back
    Was a sackful of virus,
    Set for attack.

    His eyes-how they twinkled!
    His dimples-how merry!
    As midnight approached, though
    Things soon became scary.

    He had a broad little face
    And a satanic round belly,
    And his sack filled with virus
    That pulsated like jelly.

    He was chubby and plump,
    Perpetually grinning,
    And I gasped when I saw him
    As my hard drive stopped spinning.

    A wink of his eye,
    And a twist of his head,
    Soon gave me to know
    Deeper feelings of dread.

    He spoke not a word,
    But went straight to his work,
    He changed all the clocks,
    Then turned with a jerk.

    With a twitch of his nose,
    And a quick little wink,
    All things electronic
    Soon went on the blink.

    He zoomed from my system,
    To the next folks downline,
    He caused such a disruption,
    Could this be a sign?

    Then I heard him exclaim,
    With a loud, hearty shout,
    Happy Y2K to you all,
    This is a thousand-year night!


    __________________
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  11. #10
    Jolie Rouge's Avatar
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    'Twas The Month Before Christmas


    'Twas the month before Christmas, and all through the store,
    Each department was dripping with Yuletide decor.
    The Muzak was blaring an out-of-tune carol,
    And the fake snow was falling on "Ladies' Apparel."

    I'd flown many miles from the North Pole this day,
    To check on reports which had caused me dismay.
    I'd come to this store for but one special reason,
    To see for myself what went on this Season.

    I hid in a corner and in a short while,
    I saw the Store President march down the aisle.
    He shouted an order to "Turn the store tree on!"
    And also the "NOEL" in blinking pink neon.

    Up high, grandly hanging from twin gold supports,
    Four hundred pink angels flew over "Men's Shorts."
    And towering over the Rear Mezzanine,
    A 90-foot Day Glo "Nativity Scene."

    The clock on the wall said two minutes to Nine,
    The floorwalkers proudly all stood in line.
    I watched while the President smelled their carnations,
    Then called out his final command - "Man Your Stations!"

    When out on the street there arose such a roar,
    It rang to the rafters and boomed through the store.
    It sounded exactly like street-repair drilling,
    Or maybe another big Mafia killing.

    I looked to the doors, and there banging glass,
    Was a clamoring, shrieking, hysterical mass.
    And I felt from the tone of each scream and each curse,
    That the "Spirit Of Christmas" had changed for the worse.

    The clock it struck Nine, and the door opened wide,
    And that great human avalanche thundered inside.
    More fearsome than Sherman attacking Atlanta
    Came parents and kiddies with just one goal - "Santa!!"

    In front stormed the mothers, all brandishing handbags,
    As heavy and deadly as 20 pound sandbags.
    With gusto they swung them, the better to smash ears,
    Of innocent floorwalkers, buyers, and cashiers.

    Egged on by their parents, the kids had one aim,
    To get to the man who was using my name.
    They mobbed him and mauled him, the better to plead,
    For the presents they sought in their hour of greed.

    The President watched with a gleam in his eye,
    As he thought of the toys that the parents would buy.
    Of all Christmas come-ons, this crowd would attest,
    That a visit to "Santa" was clearly the best.

    It was all too much for my soul to condone,
    And I let out a most unprofessional moan.
    The crowd turned around, and I'll say for their sake,
    That they knew in an instant I wasn't fake.

    "I've had it," I told them, "with fast-buck promoting,
    With gimmicks and come-ons and businessmen gloating.
    This garish display of commercialized greed,
    Is so very UN-Christmas, it makes my heart bleed!"


    __________________



    ~~~ The Twelve Days of Fast Food ~~~

    On the first day of Christmas,
    my drive through gave to me:
    a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.

    On the second day of Christmas,
    my drive through gave to me:
    Two Happy Meals,
    and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.

    On the third day of Christmas,
    my drive through gave to me:
    Three Biggie Fries,
    Two Happy Meals,
    and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.

    On the fourth day of Christmas,
    my drive through gave to me:
    Four Egg McMuffins,
    Three Biggie Fries,
    Two Happy Meals,
    and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.

    On the fifth day of Christmas,
    my drive through gave to me:
    Five onion rings,
    Four Egg McMuffins,
    Three Biggie Fries,
    Two Happy Meals,
    and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.

    On the sixth day of Christmas,
    My drive through gave to me:
    Six chocolate milkshakes,
    Five onion rings,
    Four Egg McMuffins,
    Three Biggie Fries,
    Two Happy Meals,
    and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.

    On the seventh day of Christmas,
    My drive through gave to me:
    Seven pints of cole slaw,
    Six chocolate milkshakes,
    Five onion rings,
    Four Egg McMuffins,
    Three Biggie Fries,
    Two Happy Meals,
    and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.

    On the eighth day of Christmas,
    My drive through gave to me:
    Eight bowls of chili,
    Seven pints of cole slaw,
    Six chocolate milkshakes,
    Five onion rings,
    Four Egg McMuffins,
    Three Biggie Fries,
    Two Happy Meals,
    and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.

    On the ninth day of Christmas,
    My drive through gave to me:
    Nine polish hot dogs,
    Eight bowls of chili,
    Seven pints of cole slaw,
    Six chocolate milkshakes,
    Five onion rings,
    Four Egg McMuffins,
    Three Biggie Fries,
    Two Happy Meals,
    and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.

    On the tenth day of Christmas,
    My drive through gave to me:
    Ten baked potatoes,
    Nine polish hot dogs,
    Eight bowls of chili,
    Seven pints of cole slaw,
    Six chocolate milkshakes,
    Five onion rings,
    Four Egg McMuffins,
    Three Biggie Fries,
    Two Happy Meals,
    and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.

    On the eleventh day of Christmas,
    My drive through gave to me:
    Eleven pounds of blubber,
    Ten baked potatoes,
    Nine polish hot dogs,
    Eight bowls of chili,
    Seven pints of cole slaw,
    Six chocolate milkshakes,
    Five onion rings,
    Four Egg McMuffins,
    Three Biggie Fries,
    Two Happy Meals,
    and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.

    On the twelfth day of Christmas,
    My drive through gave to me:
    Twelve bags of Pepto,
    Eleven pounds of blubber,
    Ten baked potatoes,
    Nine polish hot dogs,
    Eight bowls of chili,
    Seven pints of cole slaw,
    Six chocolate milkshakes,
    Five onion rings,
    Four Egg McMuffins,
    Three Biggie Fries,
    Two Happy Meals,
    and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.


    The Month *After* Christmas

    Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house,
    Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse;

    The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste;
    At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.

    Then I got on the scales there arose such a number!
    When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).

    I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared,
    The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared;

    The wine and the rum balls; the bread and the cheese;
    and the way I'd never said "no thank you please."

    As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt,
    and once again to battle with dirt,

    I said to myself, as only I can,
    "You can't I spend a winter disguised as a man!"

    So away with the last of the sour cream dip,
    Get rid of the fruitcake, every cracker and chip.

    Every last bit of food that I like must be banished.
    'til all the additional ounces have vanished.

    I won't have a cookie- not even a lick,
    I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick.

    I won't have hot biscuits, or cornbread, or pie,
    I munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

    I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore,
    But isn't that what January is for?

    Unable to giggle, no longer a riot,
    Happy New Year to all, and to all a good diet!
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  12. #11

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    A Politically Correct Christmas

    I love this one!! Those were great Jolie! Thank You!
    "Remember - No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."

    Eleanor Roosevelt



    If you're going through hell, keep going. ~ Sir Winston Churchill

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