Day 356 (2 Nights Before Christmas)

'Twas two nights before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, well, maybe my mouse;

Her stockings were hung on the door with care,

In hopes that I soon would be there;

She was nestled all snug in her bed,

While visions of breasts danced in my head;

And sexy mamma in her négligée, and I got my 'cap',

Got ready for 'work' and a "long winter's nap",

When out on the lawn I heard my car window shatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window *WAIT* I don't need to flash,

Pulled off the sheet and threw on the sash.

The moon on the breast of the now-gone snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to my car below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a wobbly Santa without eight reindeer,

With a little woman driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be Mrs. St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his bags they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Sony! Now, iPod! Now, Mini TV's and Video Vixens!

On, GPS! On Gas Money! On, Droid, we blitzing!

To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!

To break in- he sees us! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So away from the house- down the street they flew,

With the car full of toys, (my toys) and Mrs. Claus too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard not a poof

But the squealing of tires- wait, did they break the moon roof?

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

I heard the back door crash with a sound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of my toys he had in his sack,

And he looked like a peddler just trying to sell them back.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

Until he realized it was him, that guy I know;

The stump of a blunt he held tight in his teeth,

And the weed smoke: it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a big Desert Eagle and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby, no, fat, a wrongfully jolly old elf,

And I got angry when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I not better chase him, instead;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And took all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a what's up nod, he even took my wife's rose;

He sprang to his car, to his girl gave a whistle,

And away they both drove off like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Merry Christmas to me, 'cause I'm robbing all night!"


© She Hate Me 2009
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Totally random, I know. But I was bored. Meh.