Friday, December 24, 2010

Twas the Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except that one fucking mouse.
No stockings were hung, and the tree was quite bare,
I downed a few beers, and then sat there and stared.

I flipped through the channels as they yelled about Jesus,
They advertised all of the gifts that would please us.
Some nonsense about wise men seducing a baby,
While his mother kept swearing she was a pure, honest lady.

Where had I gone wrong? This was great as a child.
I ripped open presents.  I screamed.  I was wild.
Now here I sit with my head crammed with thoughts,
And to act on any one of them, well...I ought not.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I would have gone quicker, but in time I've grown fatter.
I waddled outside panting much like a dog,
If this was exciting, I'd post on my blog.

It could just be the carolers, but it may be the Jews,
For the deli or movies was my front yard confused?
I listened for music, or for the pinching of coins,
Or the cries of some women to tingle my loins.

But of those I heard none, I threw open the door,
And clipped myself in the face. When I'm sober, I'll be sore.
I peered into the darkness, and what do I observe,
But some elves bashing my mailbox right there on the curb.

As my heart filled with rage, my mind flashed to Ed Norton,
But soon I was calm, and my mind switch to Horton,
And Who did I hear in the depths of my head?
It was Norton again, that Nazi skinhead.

I wiped my mind clear, and I walked towards those midgets,
I grasped firmly my knuckles and cracked every digit.
I put on a kind face and extended them salutations,
And they ran at me, fast, at such odd elevations.

As I scampered away, afraid for my balls,
I could make out their insensitive, bigoted calls.
"Hey Fatty, come back, we're not going to hurt you!"
Then they slurred at me harshly, at least from my point of view.

I whipped out my cell phone and called 911,
And explained to the dispatcher what I tried to outrun.
"Help is on the way, it'll be over quite soon,"
with not a hint of thinking that I was a buffoon.

As I tripped on a root and went into a tumble,
My heft did then cause the ground to rumble.
As gravity took over and I rolled down a pitch,
I knew Isaac Newton was a son of a bitch.

I bounced off a tree, and it all just went black,
It was clear now I would never survive this attack.
Who knew what these mischievous elves had in store
The possibilities were hard not to abhor.

I awoke in a daze, with my pants still in place,
And above me I recognized not anyone's face.
They asked of my health, and if I had been drinking,
It was obvious justice was now just wishful thinking.

They explained what went on, and that I was a boozer,
As they handcuffed me, and shoved me in back of the cruiser.
It was apparent now, that I was quite mistaken,
My grasp on reality and sobriety was forsaken.

I had scared the neighbor's kids with all of my slurring,
It was candy they wanted, to my door they'd been scurrying.
The cop asked why I was drunken, why was I so mean?
And explained twas not Christmas, it in fact twas Halloween.

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