Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the pad,
There was nada happenin', now that’s pretty bad.
The woodstove was hung up in that stocking routine,
In hopes that the Fat Boy would soon make the scene.
With our stomachs packed with tacos and beer,
My girl and I crashed on the couch for some cheer.
When out in the yard there arose such a racket,
I ran for the door and pulled on my jacket.
I saw a large bro' on a 1098
Wearin' leathers and boots in a style that rates.
He hauled up the bars on that bikeful of sacks,
And that Duc hit the roof like it was running on tracks.
I couldn't help gawking, the old guy had class.
But I had to go in -- I was freezing my a*s.
Down through the stovepipe he fell with a crash,
And out of the stove he came dragging his stash.
With a smile and some glee he passed out the loot,
A new jacket for her and some parts for my scoot.
He patted her fanny and shook my right hand,
Spun on his heel and up the stovepipe he ran.
From up on the roof came a great deal of thunder,
As that massive twin ripped the silence asunder.
With beard in the wind, he roared off in the night,
Shouting, "Have a cool Yule, and to all a good ride!"
(slightly modified from another forum.)
OR . . . for a little more crude versionA Christmas Story
'Twas the night before Christmas--Old Santa was pissed.
He cussed out the elves and threw down his list.
Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks.
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works!
I've busted my ass for damn near a year,
Instead of "Thanks Santa"--what do I hear?
The old lady *****es cause I work late at night.
The elves want more money--The reindeer all fight.
Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids.
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS.
And just when I thought that things would get better
Those *******s from the IRS sent me a letter,
They say I owe taxes--if that ain't damn funny
Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money?
And the kids these days--they all are the pits
They want the impossible--Those mean little ****s
I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds
Assembling dolls...Their arms, legs and heads
I made a ton of yo yo's--No request for them,
They want computers and robots...they think - I'm IBM!
Flying through the air...dodging the trees
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees
I'm quitting this job there's just no enjoyment
I'll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment.
There's no Christmas this year now you know the reason,
I found me a blonde. I'm going SOUTH for the season.
In any event, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good ride. [moto]
