Canonical List of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas Variations
Version 2007.1
Part 39 of 50
January 7, 2007

Compiled by: Matthew Monroe

Archived at: http://www.alchemistmatt.com/twas/

Contains 849 versions of the classic poem, including headers from most of the posts and credits when available. The versions range from innocent and cute to vulgar and obscene, so read at your own discretion. I have collected most of these versions by searching the newsgroups using Google Groups and the now retired Deja News. I'd be happy to receive any additional versions you might have.

See the Main Index for the complete contents.

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Short Title: RailRoadUnionPacific

Subject:      HO HO HO
From:         Bill Hough 
Date:         1997/12/17
Message-ID:   <349895D6.2B49@ibm.net>
Newsgroups:   misc.transport.rail.americas

This was on the railroad list:

Subject:  FW: HO HO HO
    Date:  Wed, 17 Dec 1997 09:06:00 -0600
    From:  "Howard, Jonathan D" 
Reply-To: The Railroad List ,
         "Howard, Jonathan D" 
      To:
         RAILROAD@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU
Subject:        HO HO HO

TALES FROM THE RIVER
Issue 47

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
(ON THE UNION PACIFIC)

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the west,
not a steel wheel was turning, all trains were at rest.

The train crews were stuck in sidings everywhere,
In hopes that their re-crews soon would be there.

My conductor and I hid our eyes with our cap,
and adjusted our seats for a long winter's nap.

When from outside the cab there arose such a clatter,
I sat up in my seat to see what was the matter.

When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
but Santa's sleigh pulled by sled dogs, not reindeer.

I opened the window in search of an answer,
"Hey Santa!" I called "Where's Dancer? Where's Prancer?"

Santa landed and told me a grim tale of woe,
how the reindeer were hungry and too weak to tow!

He said: "All the reindeer food's stuck in Nebraska,
there's none anywhere from Iceland to Alaska!"

"And my toys are at Long Beach piled up on the docks,
I've got nothing to give the good children but socks!"

"And I can't fill the stockings of kids who've been bad,
I've looked everywhere, there's no coal to be had."

When I asked Santa why, he was very specific,
he blamed all his troubles on Union Pacific.

As he flew off in his sleigh, over mountain and river,
I heard him exclaim: "Somehow, I will deliver!"

--
Bill Hough can be reached at brhoughnospam@ibm.net
remove "nospam" before hitting "send".

Check out the photos at:
http://www.geocities.com/CapeCanaveral/Hangar/3964/


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Short Title: Ramadan1

Subject:      The Night Before Ramadan
From:         laliaramos@aol.com (LALIARAMOS)
Date:         1997/12/28
Message-ID:   <19971228175101.MAA01934@ladder02.news.aol.com>
Newsgroups:   soc.culture.algeria

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE RAMADAN
And all through the house
The dz were all cooking
Making Makrout el Luiz

Their prayer rugs were all placed
Facing East with care
While rounds of El Fatiha
Filled the air

The khes khes all nestled
on top of the heat
While Rai music played
The dz keeping the beat!

While steam from the couscous
Swirled around their heads
Everyone was dancing
To good old Cheb Khaled

There was chorba and khobz
T'chak t'chukka and laben
The dz all thought
They were sent heaven

Tamina and adis
Loubiya and halwa
None of the dz thought
Anything was the matter

Bowls of berkoukas
And harirra were flowing
From too much harissa
Their faces were glowing!

Le bas, le bas
El hamdulilah
They shouted
As they ate some Baklava

Such celebration,
Such a grand fete
The dz could think
Only of le bled

They ate, they danced,
They made such a clatter
By morning the dz
Were all so much fatter!

Salam, Salut
And Salam el Khir
Ramadan comes
Bur once a year

Nothing could stop them
Everything was bright
Saha to all
And to all a goodnight!


i wrote this poem for all of my on line  dz family and friends to have fun
with.  ...i wrote it in a spirit of friendship and love....and for 
enjoyment....no disrespect in any way is intended.......and i hope none was 
taken.  i wish all of you a blessed Ramadan.....let our prayers be as one 
voice to Allah.....and let us fast together as one body...in strength...and 
let our hanouna Algeria be free of suffering.  Inchallah

masalama
khadi

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Short Title: Ramadan2

from http://redtape.uchicago.edu/orgs/muslim-association/lailatulqadr.html

       The Muslim Student's Association at the University of Chicago
   
                       'Twas the Night of Lailatul-Qadr
                                       
   'Twas the night of Lailatul-Qadr
   And all through the frat
   Not a creature was stirring
   Not even a rat.
   
   The guys were all sleeping
   All snug on the floor,
   Till one of them woke
   From a loud raucous snore.
   
   It came from outside,
   Not a snore but a clatter,
   So Bilal rushed to the window
   To see what was the matter.
   
   The thought of a burglar
   Was his reason to hurry,
   But Alhamdoolilah,
   'Twas old Ramadan Ali!
   
   His charm and charisma
   Could surely outdo most,
   His belly shook when he laughed
   Like a plate full of hummos.
   
   His aura was commanding
   Yet jovial and funny,
   Like a mixture of falafel
   And chicken biryani.
   
   His angels hung their blessings
   Over the chimney with care,
   In hopes that we thank
   Allah later through prayer.
   
   When Ramadan Ali was done,
   He hurried away,
   And Bilal swore that he glimpsed
   A camel-drawn sleigh.
   
   "Bismillah-Hirrahmaan-Nirraheem!
   On Faisal! On Amina! On Abdul-Kareem!
   On Aisha! On Sonia! On Hussain and Imran!
   On Adil! On Omar! On Rudolph Ali Kahn!" (he converted)
   
   And through the most holy night,
   Bilal waved the spirit goodbye,
   And the crescent-shaped moon
   Caught the noor from his eye.
   
   And as he went back to sleep,
   The faint voice didn't wake 'im:
   "A peaceful Ramadan to all!
   As-salaam-alaikum!"

   by Anonymous
   University of Chicago


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Short Title: Rapper

Subject:      The Nights Before Christmas [Archive]
From:         jrf@NOSPAMcyberjunkie.com (JRF)
Date:         1997/12/07
Message-ID:   <66f02l$2hu$1@hirame.wwa.com>
Newsgroups:   alt.humor,alt.jokes,alt.tasteless.jokes,rec.humor

  - Da Night Befo' Christmas, Hey, Ho! -
    (Aka The Rappin' Version)

'Twas da night befo' Christmas & all in the hood,
Not a homie was stirring cuz it was all good.
The tube socks was hung on the window sill,
And we all had smiles up on our grill.
Mookie and BeBe was snug in the crib
In the back bedroom, cuz that's how we live.
And Moms in her do-rag and me with my nine,
Had just gotten busy cuz girlfriend is fine.
All of a sudden a lowrider rolled by,
Bumpin' phat beats cuz the system's fly.
I bounced to the window at a quarter pas'
Bout ready to pop a cap in somebody's ass!
I yelled to my lady, Yo peep this!
She said, Stop frontin' & just mind yo' bidness.
I said, for real doe, come check dis out.
We weren't even buggin', no worries, no doubt.
Cuz bumpin' an thumpin' from around da way
Was Santa, 8 reindeer and a sleigh.
Da beats was kickin', da ride was phat
I said, "Yo red Dawg, you all that!"
He threw up a sign and yelled to his boyz,
"Ay yo, give it up, let's make some noise!"
To the top of the projects & across the strip mall,
We gots ta go, I got a booty call!"
He pulled up his ride on the top a da roof,
And sippin' on a 40, he busted a move.
I yelled up to Santa, "Yo ain't got no stack!"
He said, "Damn homie, deese projects is wack!
But don't worry black, cuz I gots da skillz,
I learnt back when I hadda pay da billz."
Out from his bag he pulled 3 small tings:
A credit card, a knife, and a bobby pin.
He slid down the fire exscape smoove as a cat,
And busted the window wit' a b-ball bat.
I said, "Whassup, Santa? Whydya bust my place?"
He said,"You best get on up out my face!"
His threads was all leatha, his chains was all gold,
His sneaks was Puma and they was 5 years old.
He dropped down the duffle, Clippers logo on the side.
Santa broke out da loot and my mouf popped open wide.
A wink of his eye and a shine off his gold toof,
He cabbage patched his way back onto the roof
He jumped in his hooptie wit' rims made of chrome,
To tap that booty waitin' at home.
And all I heard as he cruised outta sight,
Was a loud and hearty.....
  BROOKLYN'S IN DA HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 


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Short Title: Realtor

from http://www.reo.net/schubb/twas.htm 

   'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
   Not a creature was stirring not even a mouse;
   The sign was stuck in the lawn with care,
   In hopes that the buyers soon would be there;
   
   The Realtors at open house had all been fed,
   While visions of commissions danced in their heads;
   But the first buyer who saw the house on a map,
   Had between what he had and the list price a gap.
   
   When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
   It was buyer #2 - the Mad Hatter!
   He had made a great offer with savvy and flash,
   Tore open his briefcase and threw out the cash.
   
   I thought the appraiser might value too low,
   I'm just a Realtor - what do I know?
   When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
   But an acceptable contract and a lender no fear.
   
   With a termite inspector so thorough and quick,
   I knew in a moment, I wouldn't be sick.
   More home inspections that all sound the same,
   We whistled and shouted and called them by name;
   
   "Now ROOFER! Now, GARDENER! Now, PAINTER a mixin,
   New carpet, new vinyl new hardwood we're fixin.
   To the top of the stairs! To the top of the wall!
   More estimates, more bids, now more contractors call!"
   
   And then, in a twinkling, I heard such good news,
   After fretting and worrying, this I could use.
   As I lifted my cell phone and dialed, I found,
   the loan docs are here, with nary a sound.
   
   Her eyes how they twinkled! Her dimples how merry!
   Escrow instructions with her she carried.
   Closing costs didn't seem too low,
   But I reminded the buyer sometimes we don't know.
   
   The cashiers' check held tight in his teeth,
   My buyer was calm his nerves underneath.
   
   He spoke not a word, but went straight to his home
   I gave him the house keys no more to roam.
   As we compose this real estate Christmas prose,
   Alas this is not how each escrow does close.
   
   Before you buy or sell, give us a whistle,
   As Realtors we'll keep you out of the thistles.
   Please give us a chance, And feel free to call,
   
   "MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU
   AND HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!"
   
   Written by Nancy Schubb, Realtor Associate
   Security Pacific Real Estate
   Walnut Creek, CA.

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Short Title: RecArtsComics1

Author:   Brandon Blatcher
Email: nomadic@bellsouth.net
Date: 1998/12/25
Forums: rec.arts.comics.misc

 'Twas the limited series before Christmas...
   
Twas the night before Christmas
and all throughout RAC,
not a creature was stirring,
and that was an odd little fact!
All the stockings were posted
to the chimney with glee
In the hope that they'd be filled
with comics for free!

The posters were nestled all snug in their beds,
While the Crisis graphic novel was delivered, but only in their heads;
And mamma in her thong, and I in my mask,
Had settled down for a muli part epic in which to bask.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I boomtubed from the bed, to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like the flash,
snitking open the shutters and clobbering the sash.
The moon colored real kewl, as was the computerized snow,
Giving more cheesiness  to objects below,

When, what to my masked eyes did appear,
A miniature embossed sleigh and eight Photoshoped reindeer,
Pulling a costumed old driver so lively and quick,
I screamed in a moment "Take it elsewhere, you're off topic!"

Down the chimney he 'ported,
like a good mutant© should.
He was so garishly attired,
I knew he belonged in this 'hood!

He spoke not a word,
it was essential to the plot,
at least till the editor changed it,
as you knew they would, those silly crackpots.

Yet he finished his work,
Just beyond the deadline,
with a nifty panel transition,
That would probably leave the artist in a bind

But I saw him letter
before he 'ported outta sight
"Merry Christmas to all
and to all a Good Night"

-Brandon

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Short Title: RecArtsComics2

Subject:      The Night Before Christmas, racmx style
From:         mblase@yahooNOSPAM.com (Marty Blase)
Date:         1997/12/19
Message-ID:   
Newsgroups:   rec.arts.comics.marvel.xbooks

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through racmx
Not a person was posting, not even ol' Blix.
The FAQs had been posted by loyal Saint Kate,
With comments from Aardy (her soon-to-be mate).

Paul O'Brien's reviews had been put up at last,
With replies by Jim Smith and his trademark wisecracks.
And as all appeared well, I prepared to shut down
My computer, at least till the New Year came 'round.

But when out on one thread there arose such a clammor,
I fired up TIN with a sputter and stammer.
Away from the FAQs I then moved with a whiz,
As I skipped right past posts by Tim Elf and Eliz.

The thread seemed quite normal, the messages calm,
And nothing I saw gave me cause for alarm,
When who should I see, posting so nonchalant,
But the one and only Christopher Claremont!

With a terse writing style and no malice implied,
I knew it was him, it could not be denied.
I checked for replies and the others agreed,
So I posted and pleaded for all to come see.

"Hey, Alleigh! Hey, Aleph! Hey, Tony! Hey, Andy!
Hey, Charley and David and Henrik and Danny!
You've gotta come look! You just gotta come see!
This is something too incredible to believe!"

But of course, no responses--not one could I find,
The others had quite sensibly gone off-line.
So off to my e-mail program I flew,
To contact "Big C" and see what he would do.

But then, in a twinkling, I saw a new post
From the man I supposed to be some magic ghost.
So I cancelled my message, deciding to lurk
And await what he'd say about his latest work.

He was straight and direct, not at all apropos,
And he told us right off what we wanted to know.
He meant what he said, and he said what he meant
As he spoke on his new role as Vice-President.

He was courteous always, but never too kind,
And he said just exactly the things on his mind.
And then, as I hoped he'd have still more to say,
He finished his post, and he vanished away.

I logged off my connection, in quite a good mood,
And I smiled inside, hoping that he approved
Of the way that this 'group his creations adored,
And if he did not?... We'd still have our reward.

So I'll finish this poem with one more little rhyme,
To resolve a small mystery I've held for some time.
With a laugh like you'd hear from the Muppets' bear, Fozzie:

"HAPPY HOLIDAYS, ALL!"
                        --your FAQ keeper, M. Blase.

Marty Blase  --  mblase@yahoo.com, and other assorted email addresses
Moxy Fruvous vs. the Michigan Militia: coming soon to www.fruvous.com
=====================================================================
Check out new'n'improved X-Page Hotlist! - http://x-page.com/hotlist/
Looking for the racm.xbooks FAQ? -- http://x-page.com/texts/racmxFAQ/
       Remove 'NOSPAM' from the reply address to send me mail

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Short Title: RecArtsMystery

   Forum: rec.arts.mystery
   Subject:  Twas the Night Before-Ram Style
   Date: 11/27/1999
   Author: CarleenML 
   
   I'm sorry, I'm worse than the malls, here we are still digesting
   pumpkin pie, but I couldn't wait anymore, impatient dame that I
   am...so here's my poetry contribution for the season:
   
   Twas the night before Christmas when all thru the house
   not a creature was stirring except for my mouse.
   The newsgroup was beckoning, and I thought I should join 'em-
   so I snuck to the computer and fired up the modem.

   The groupies were nestled all snug with their threads
   While visions of brilliance danced in their heads.
   And Vicki with her point list, and Beth with her smiles
   had just settled in to have fun for a while.

   When suddenly on the group there arose such a clatter-
   I sprang to my keyboard to see what was the matter.
   And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
   but Carol from Alaska with real Alaskan reindeer.

   And if 'tweren't enough, the deer from Alaska-
   here comes Lise M.-- with some more from Montana!
   And they laughed, and they shouted as they called them by name-
   Soon everyone joined in and there 'twasn't a flame!

   On Barry! On M'Lou! On Keith and Eileeeeeen!
   On Andi and Charlie and Elphaba and Carleeeeen!
   On Judi, On Ellen, On Topic HO HO!
   The puns never stop with this crowd, don't you know.

   But where's Jon, I wondered, that jolly old elf-
   Why he's playing with Legos, or with himself, quipped KS!
   And I'm glad Dusty joined in, he's priceless ever since-
   He came up with that joke about erotic fingerprints.

   If that 'tweren't enough, here's the Mikes, Katy, and Janes,
   I do believe they're flaming over peeps vs. candy canes.
   But generally speaking, we're all making merry-
   Whether guffawing over squirrels, or actually discussing a myst-ery.

   And I heard all exclaim, as we signed out of sight-
   Merry Christmas RAM friends! And to all, a good night!
   *
   and my humble apologies to all people and oft-discussed off-topics I
   forgot to include!!

   Carleen


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Short Title: RecAutoMakersSaturn

Subject:      A Steve Scharf Christmas
From:         zipster200@aol.com (Zipster200)
Date:         1997/12/26
Message-ID:   <19971226013801.UAA17047@ladder02.news.aol.com>
Newsgroups:   rec.autos.makers.saturn

John Wiley Said:

>Since folks are seeing fit to email admins about this
>kind of stuff, I'll avoid the Scharf centered Grinchy
>Seuss prose I've composed as a response... Truly a shame...

Aw come on, John. Go ahead.
After all... It's Christmas!

A Steve Scharf Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas,
And Steve Scharf was lurking.
Waiting for Newbies
That he could start jerking.

Someone we'd not heard of
Posted Timing Chain "problems"
And Steve blamed everything
from oil burning to Goblins!

He ticked off Tom Rob,
And John Wiley too!
They said "Steve Facts" were stale,
And his anecdotes blew!

But Steve doesn't care!
He maintains his lame postings.
The Saturn Machine
He just loves to keep ghosting!

He's never owned a Saturn,
Yet advice spews from his lips!
Like a Virgin Teenager,
Vainly issuing sex tips!

He cries foul when he's bested
By those who know better.
He attacks reputations!
Calls them D.C. bedwetters!

When issued a known fact,
Steve simply rejects it.
When reading J.D. Powers,
He's sadly dyslexic.

Can he be logically persuaded
To make his perspective unslant?
Sure! With years of intense therapy
on a government grant!

Why does he do it?
What is the point?
Who gives a shit.
Hey! Don't "Bogart" that Joint!

Whatever his problem is,
New posters take heed!
Steve Scharf can make sense,
When you've had enough weed!

For now, I'm resigned
To Steve's rude abasements
Issued deep from within
His Mother's crude basement.

The only way we'll get relief
From ol' Steve and his lies,
Is if God intervenes
Or Steve's Commodore dies.


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Short Title: RecBackcountry

From: Gary S. (Idontwantspam@net)
Subject: Twas the Night Before Christmas 
Newsgroups: rec.backcountry
Date: 2002-12-24 17:32:10 PST 

'Twas the Night Before Christmas
Apologies to Clement C. Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the r.b house
not a creature was stirring, not even a Vandemouse. 
The polypros were hung by the monitor with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. 

The posters were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of new hiking gear danced in their heads.
And Mama in her 'clava, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap. 

When out on Usenet there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to Windows XP I flew like a flash,
turned on the power, and threw up the laptop sash. 

The moon jpeg background, like new-fallen snow
gave the lustre of midday to the keyboard below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a virtual sleigh and eight tiny reindeer. 

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his courses they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name: 

"Now Eugene! Now Penny! 
Now, Igloo Ed and Cyli, (net.Vixen)! 
On, Jerry! On, Chris! 
On, Bucy and those politic'zen!

To the top of the list!
To the top of them all! 
Now post away! Post away! 
Post away all!" 

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with a North Face, mount to the sky
so up to the newsgroup the postings they flew,
with the sleigh full of gear, and St. Nicholas too. 

And then, in a twinkling, I saw, no joke
the prancing and pawing of each little keystroke.
As I drew back my head and was looking around,
down the screen St. Nicholas came with a bound. 

He was dressed all in fleece, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished from spammers and flamewar soot.
A bundle of REI specials he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a thru-hiker just opening his backpack. 

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,
and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow. 

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. 

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
and I laughed 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 had nothing to dread. 

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the polypros, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the screen he rose. 

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight, 
"Happy Christmas to all on rec.backcountry, and to all a good night!"


Wishing all of you the best of the season, with your choice of
holiday, a chance to pause and reflect, and a time with friends and family.
May Santa bring all of you some new outdoor gear, so you can use it,
and post here how it worked.

Happy trails,
Gary (net.yogi.bear)
---
at the 51st percentile of ursine intelligence
Gary D. Schwartz, Needham, MA, USA
Please reply to: garyDOTschwartzATpoboxDOTcom


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Short Title: RecCollectingCoins

Subject: 'Twas the night before Christmas (OT and early) 
Date: 12/19/2000 
Author: Steven Preston  
Newsgroup: rec.collecting.coins  

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the group, 
not a poster was stirring- you could hear the opening of a loupe.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, 
in hopes that Saint Gaudens soon would be there.
 
The bust collectors were nestled all snug in their beds, 
while visions of new die pairings danced in their heads.
And on the face of most regulars resided a frown, 
no coins were selling for e-Bay was down.
 
When out by my mailbox I heard a faint jingle- 
was it the mini-bag I'd ordered or possibly Kris Kringle?
Away from my computer I flew like a flash to see 
if it was the package on which I'd blown all my cash.
 
And the moon on the obverse of the new burnished Sac, 
gave the luster of midday to those that weren't sent back.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear, 
but a post from a troll- why did it have to be here?
 
So to improve my spirits, I found a new thread, 
and right away I saw a post from BiggFredd.
More rapid than eagles his comments they came, 
he supported a dealer and described e-Bay as lame.
 
Now on Stujoe, on Dobac, on Anacondan, on Phil- 
check out that bid history, flush out that shill.
To the top of the listings, to the bargains that call, 
now snipe away, snipe away, snipe away all!
 
Many of the posters were busy spreading holiday mirth- 
even cheerfully telling people what their coin was worth.
And after a hard day of typing they all would cut loose, 
and head over to Ed's for some flat-breasted goose.
 
With Intel microscope images to dazzle the eye, 
they contemplated each rim crack and each doubled die.
Then out to a coin show the posters they flew, 
to practice market grading MS-61 from 62.
 
Then in a twinkling, I heard a loud flame- 
I can't mention it here, for it was too nasty a name.
As I drew my keyboard closer to type a retort, 
the spirit of the season made me hit not send but abort.
 
At last from the slabbers, my prized coin I got back- 
I'd show you all here, but I can't per the FAQ.
And while we sometimes bog down with cent vs. penny, 
if you're in need of an expert, you're in luck- we have many.
 
Though squabbles will happen, there are few bites and mostly marks- 
just try to smile through it, at worst you'll get some character marks. 
Just when I'd given up hope of seeing the man capable of chimney acrobatics, 
he suddenly appeared- who says there's no Santa Claus in numismatics?
 
He had the round belly, and a broad face on his head, 
I had to look twice to make sure it wasn't BiggFredd.
He asked if I was naughty, and I had to say "I am", 
but at least the lump of coal he gave me was ICG Proof-70 DeepCam.
 
And I heard him exclaim as he rose out of sight, 
"Merry Christmas RCC- for a newsgroup, you're allright!".
 
-Steve, wishing everyone.. wait, no! Oh alright, everyone at rcc a happy holiday (be you Christmas tree lighter or right to left candle burner) and many 2x2 sized packages in your designated gift receptacle.
 

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Short Title: RecFoodCooking

   Author:   Mary Frye
   Email: maryf@earthlink.net
   Date: 1998/12/24
   Forums: rec.food.cooking
   
Twas the night before the night before Christmas
And all through the house
...nary a sound
Not even a mouse!

I spent 2 hours or more
getting home,
In snow unexpected,
That's when I started
This poem.

I was doing just fine
Till the hill in Damascus
And the bus driver
Ass decided to pass us!

He started to slide
On the ice, Oh my gosh!
Stephen, HOLD ON,
We might have a crash.

The bus statrted to slide
And backwards it came,
I pulled on my strength and
Said dirty names.

I just hit the gas
With all I could muster
Pulled around the damn bus
And screamed "LOOK OUT BUSTER!"

And away up the hill
I flew like a swallow
Skidding and sliding
Now! the bus Starts Climbing.

The rest of ride
Home was just fine
We hit the door,
I really needed a whine.

I called all the locals
They all got home fine
Everyone's safe
But all drinking wine

Bernie's in bed and the muchkin with him.
South Park is over, Now I can't just Ho Hem.
So I made the gravlax and pondered a bit
Read some more mail and decided that's it.

But what to my wondering eyes did appear?
Oh Darn the cream's out, in  the fridge now my dears.

I wanted to do
the crème brulee tonight
but the stockings need stuffing
so I'd better do them just right.

I was to have picked up
The turkey today
The butcher I hope
Will keep it at bay

The puds are snuggled in  bed
With the boys
And Stephen, I know is
Dreaming of toys.

And my dear RFC
I send you my best
May your holiday be wonderful
And may all be blessed.

--
Mary f.   _         _
         ( \       / )
      |\  ) ) _,,,/ (,,_
   **/, .*'`~   ~-.  ;-;;,_
    |,4) *   -,_. ,  (  `'-'
   '-~~'*(_/~~'  `-'\_)
 

It's a widdle,widdle, widdle pud (dresssed up for the Holidays)
http://home.earthlink.net/~maryf  (remove pud to reply)

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Short Title: RecMusicArtistsQueensryche

Subject:      Merry Christmas!  (Was Remember?)
From:         mirror@tco.com (Mike Z)
Date:         1997/12/25
Message-ID:   
Newsgroups:   rec.music.artists.queensryche

In article <34a1d6c9.0@news.one.net>, "Richard Ansara"  wrote:

>Does anyone have my Christmas carol from last year?  The one with QR and DT in
>it?  Oh well....Merry Christmas RMAQ.....
>
Yup.  I found it.  I'm pretty good at the searching thing at this point.
Certainly a classic!  Here it is.  Merry Christmas Mindcrimer!  Merry
Christmas everyone!

Merry Christmas to all you folks.

To all the whiners.
To all the smart people.
To all the lurking people too scared to state their opinions.
To all the DT Cops.
To all the critics.
And to all who just can't stand me at all.
Here's a little song for all of you.

Twas the night before Rychemas
And all through the group
The DT cops were lurking
Looking for the bashing scoop

Monarch is sick of this DT affair
And Adam and Patrick can't stand to compare.
Before we begin a newsgroup new year.
Don't get your hopes up, the war will be here.

With new albums on the horizon
Queensryche's will be much better
So prepare to get flamed over and over and over.

The Ryche made their album with precision and care
While DT asked Santa for longer hair.
Queensryche kicks butt once again
While DT wrote another CD that never ends.

So sit tight and wait for Mindcrimer to bait
All the DT Cops who can't control their fate
In March a new rifle with 14 bullets to spare
All the DT Cops, you better beware.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight.

*********
MIRROR                 Check out the lastest MIRROR release,
PO Box 430                        "Reflections"
Thiells, NY  10984         Available on Eroica Records
                  Http://www.tco.com/MIRROR
*********

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Short Title: RecMusicMakersPiano1

   Author:   Glenn L
   Email: glipman@NOSPAM.bcpl.net
   Date: 1998/12/13
   Forums: rec.music.makers.piano
   
Twas the night before Hanukkah
And what do I hear
It's IBruton's Yamaha
The C3 I fear

And what is that centered
On the music deck above
It's published by Hal Leonard
Dave Franks Joy of Improv

The questions abound
on R M M P
about old pianos you've found
and the serial numbers you see.

And as your banging away
On the keys black and white
Everyone has something to say
About which piano's a delight

No smaller than five eight
Frank Weston was saying
Anything smaller
Isn't worth ever playing

But the M&H "A"
Is only  five seven
A440 will say
for him this is heaven

And what do you play
On this three legged beast
Ceil will only pray
It's not Fur Elise.

So how do you tune
Or calculate stretch
Use the fork not the spoon
But there's always a catch

By strobe or by ear
Which is the best
Whichever, it's clear
Will pass the PTG test

But the most asked as yet
Is where to find free
Music on the net
Just give it to me!

Why should I pay
for teachers  and such
Everyone will say
They just charge too much

And how do you know
What the value should be
You hire a tech to go
And evaluate, for a fee

Acoustic or Digital
That is the choice
I want to spend very little
But still want the Rolls Royce

Pearl or Eterna
What could be wrong
So their from China
They'll still play a song.

I'll just keep tickling
My Boston five ten
When the soft wood rim collapses
I'll worry bout it then

Because the fat guy in red
Isn't coming to me
And his ratty old sled
Can't deliver Steinway "D"

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Short Title: RecMusicMakersPiano2

   Author:   Glenn L
   Email: glipman@NOSPAM.bcpl.net
   Date: 1998/12/23
   Forums: rec.music.makers.piano
   
Twas the night before Christmas
Oh - Not this again
Now who's on the hit list
from that pesky Glenn

You'd think that he might
Have something better to do
Well not on this night
Because he's a Jew

We still need to tell
About Dave Zappa the man
Who used to sell
Seventeen different brands

And he likes to finger
Those institutional shows
As places people linger
But don't buy pianos

And VOCE88
Who's really alright
But a little irate
He wasn't in the last Twas the night

Now if you still haven't seen
the recommended book
The cover is green
It's, distinctive look

When you can read it no more
And think there's nothing left to gain
There's always the allure
Of reading NotMTwain

If you want to know
How to learn a thousand times faster
Cc88m's web site's where to go
For he is the master

But when selecting a tech
There's only one hitch
Make sure that his specs
Include tuning A440 pitch

There's too much C & J
And it probably won't cease
But there's other things to play
And I don't mean Fur Elise

We have to thank Ptooner
For at the end of his posts
He usually has some humor
Or very funny notes

And we have to give  mention
To our expert Rick Clark
Who gives every post his attention
And answers always hit the mark

To Greg Presley and Keith McGavern
And the others who love music
Cork Van Den Handel and Jeff Harrison
Even Bob Cardone who hates acoustic

Only one last thing
About a debate that was pretty strong
Is that the biggest box with strings
Is over ten feet long

Now I am through
And I hope it is clear
I wanted to wish all of you
A Happy Holiday and New Year.

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Short Title: RecMusicMakersTrumpet

From: Bryan & Lesli Fields (snuggamuffins@mstar2.net)
Subject: Merry Christmas to all! 
Newsgroups: rec.music.makers.trumpet
Date: 2001-12-24 20:47:08 PST 

'Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the group
the flames were still flying
with much trumpet poop.

The stockings were hung 
by the speakers with care
in hopes that a Monette
might soon appear there.

The players were nestled 
all snug in their digs
except for the hip ones
who had Christmas gigs

And I with my flugel
and Arban's and Stamp
had just got warmed up
and was starting to vamp

when inside the computer
there arose so much chatter
I opened my browser
to see what was the matter

away to the newsgroup 
I logged in a flash
and I watched in amazement
at clash after clash.

On Howdy!  On JJ!  
We're starting to cook, man!
Go Big Al! and Trager!
What's happened to Bookman?

To the top of the staff!
To the front of the crowd!
Now blast away, blast away, 
real high and loud!

And just when I thought
I would forget how to play
comes a man who loves Schilkes
and shows us the way

And to Pops and to Bolvin,
my thanks know no bounds
my chops are evolvin',
I'm diggin' the sounds!

And I'm moved to exclaim
as I dig Christmas tunes
Merry Christmas to all
of you trumpeting loons!


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Short Title: RecMusicPhish

   Author:   Jason Bilicki
   Email: jbilicki@cats.ucsc.edu
   Date: 1998/12/04
   Forums: rec.music.phish

'Twas the night before ticket sales, and all through the sea
Not a phishy was stirring, not even a weasel named FEE!

The phans were nestled all snug in their beds
While tortillas and glowsticks BOUNCED off their heads!

Mike on AOL, and Fish in Japan
They need some time off before the Holiday Run, man!

Then out in New York there arose such a clatter!
I got on the net to see what was the matter.

Of what did the ticketless phishies all speak?
But a horde of ticket brokers and a tickle-crazed freak!

When up in Vermont I heard a guitar play,
I knew without question that it must be Trey!

He flew down the mountains on a giant hot dog,
He blazed over forests and cut through the fog.

Into the big apple he came with his friends,
Jimmy, Harpua, and Colonel Forbin!

Esther was with him, and Millie & Fee,
Some Lizards and Tela, even David Bowie!

They flew through Manhatten like birds of a feather
And gathered the ticketless phishies together.

"Now listen up people, and listen up good,"
Trey spoke very clear so he'd be understood

"We won't leave you shivering outside MSG,
Phish will be playing for EVERYBODY!"

And as Trey spoke, it began to snow
From the sky fell not snowflakes, but TICKETS...to the SHOW!

The people all cheered and jumped for joy
There were plenty of tickets for each girl and boy

Terri and the scalpers threw their tickets away
For with plenty for all, there'd be no one who'd pay

Now the people were happy, and Trey's work was done.
He hopped on the weiner and said "I've gotta run."

But they heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight,
"Happy Phishing to all, and to all a good night!"

Good luck getting tix everyone,
Jason

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Short Title: RecOutdoorsRV-Travel

From: Steph and Dud B. (stephndudb@att.net)
Subject: "The Night Before Christmas" v.2.0 
Newsgroups: rec.outdoors.rv-travel
Date: 2001-12-24 07:40:34 PST 
 
'Twas the night before Christmas and out in the yard
Our TT was sleeping, black tank frozen hard.

Our son was sleeping, tucked in his bed
While visions of camping trips danced in his head.
And I in my PJs and Ford truck billcap
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out of my laptop arose such a clatter
I sprung from my bed to see what was the matter.
Straight to the keyboard I flew in a flash.
Entered my username and a word of type "pass."

The moon on my display gave a very bright glow.
I paced and cursed 'cuz my dial-up's so slow.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But the RORT newsgroup right here!

My eyes scanned the authors in each little thread,
And I soon came to know I had nothing to dread.
Will Sill was there, and that cool GB dude,
And someone named Jenny, apparently nude.

There was Oz with his airgauge and Lon was there, too.
A new guy named Dwight, and Canoli, it's true.
Hunter checked in, from where we don't know,
But chances are, not where there's snow.

Chris Bryant was giving advice by the hour
On everything from awnings to power.
And Steve Wolf was there with gadgets galore,
And Catmobile, too, with his anti-Robber door.

I dragged on my touchpad and clicked on my mouse,
Inviting these virtual friends into my house.
The newbies we answered, the trolls we ignored.
In this newgroup one rarely gets bored!

The time, it passed, the hours, they flew.
Before I knew it, the day, it was new.
Time to fill stockings and load up the tree.
Steph getting impatient and beckoning me.

Time to log off now and do Santa's chore,
But before I do I must type one thing more:
To all who have helped us with advice and good cheer -
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

--
Dudley - http://members.aol.com/stephndudb/rv.html
"Camping" in 5000 pounds of stick and tin.

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Short Title: RecoveredPedophile

Subject: 'Twas the night before Christmas
Date: 09/18/2000 
Author: shade  
Newsgroup: rec.games.mud.admin 

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the place
were the jeerers and leerers and the people with mace
Unrepentant they called me, though repentant I'd been
just not enough for them to stop making their scene.
 
I require proof before repenting on things
I don't go repenting simply hoping it brings
the quieting of all the clamour around
if that was all I wanted, not a word would be found
of all my actions, large and small
regarding what I did with this, that girl and all
 
the tear that the one before had mentioned was there
in the past, long ago, though then I didn't know where
or why the tear had been there to start
I only understood it when we did part
 
Off I went, for 3 years, with my father and his girlfriend
To learn other sides of life and there, I did befriend
another girl, age 13 at the time I did meet her
age she did, 2 more years, would be nice to just see her
 
Atleast once, maybe twice, and ofcourse more would be nice
Never seen her, only a picture, though her voice is like spice
There are laws, regulations that would be foolhardy to ignore
how I handle things, I don't know, but time always tells more
 
You tend focus on my bad side, Theist with an A
a religion with doubts isn't bad, by the way
You might try to apply it to your own way of thinking
Try to see the things that happen in my own eyes;
it's not always just blinking
 
I know you have a past that was hard for you
I didn't have your problems, but I had problems too
I may have caused a young girl pain
But I've done everything in my power to regain
The good feelings between us that we had before then
 
And I think I've done pretty well, all things considered
She can even joke of the past, even if somewhat gittered
The hardest thing I've found to endure
is the coldness that pervades within your tenure
 
Do you ever wonder why your father bought you that ticket?
Gave you back to the world that he'd taken you from?
Do you think that coldness you show him will cure the wounds within you? Can't you see that understanding is the only thing that that can heal? 
 
The poem can't rhyme anymore I'm afraid
the words get too hard, the tempo gets frayed
just remember that I once too was a child
as was your father, yes, all of us mild
 
You might try to see how our minds all worked then
Try to turn back the clock and see what went on and when
There are times when only the past can show us how
we got from that place to the right here and now.
 
You might want to see how our ideologies developed their hue
Read up on the books with different points of view
Pedophilia: Biosocial Dimensions is a treasure I'd think
You might find some stuff in there you've never seen
in all the things you've experienced
and why he was mean
-- 
shade
email address is: shade2x@writeme.com
 

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Short Title: RecoveryAlcoholicsAnonymous

Subject:      AA Yule Poem
From:         hedderic@flash.net (Robert_hedderick)
Date:         1997/12/23
Message-ID:   
Newsgroups:   alt.recovery.aa

I stole this from an AA ng a couple years ago:

Another version of "Twas the Night-":

"Twas the night before Christmas when all through the hall
Not a member was stirring, nor sought alcohol.
Coffee and cookies were set out with care;
More AA members soon would be there.
Each grateful member with no trace of vanity,
Gave thanks to the Power that restores us to sanity.

The leader of the meeting, like all who have missions,
Assigned Chapter Five and the Twelve Traditions.
When outside the hall there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from our chairs to see what was the matter.
In parking a car some bumpers were hit,
The man who was wrong did promptly admit.

And so to our grateful eyes did appear
Our famous guest speaker, loved far and near.
More rapid than eagles the member then came;
He hugged them and kissed them and called them by name:
Hi, Alice; 'lo, Jimmy; God love you, Harry...
Betty and Carol and Birthday boy Larry!

Again we all settled, ready to share;
The leader of the meeting led the Serenity Prayer.
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly
When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky.
So up to sobriety the members they flew,
With Twelve Steps to follow, Twelve Traditions, too.

The Seventh Tradition inevitably came.
The leader then called on our speaker by name.
He wore his red suit, a fur cap and no tie,
But soon let us know with a wink of his eye,
That Christmas for us, we must learn to think
Means staying away from the very first drink.

A bundle of joys he told us we'd find,
"Read the Big Book for true peace of mind."
At the end of the meeting he led the Prayer
and gave us the word: "Continue to share."
But I heard him exclaim as he picked up his pack,
"Don't ever forget to Keep Coming Back!"
    -Jame M.  ---  Hollywood Yucca

- - - - - - -
"Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity"
-- Nobel prize physicist, Richard Feynman.

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Matthew Monroe in Richland, WA

Last Modified January 7, 2007