Canonical List of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas Variations
Version 2007.1
Part 4 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: AltSolipsismNightBeforeCrimmas

From: ~~~AllisonWonderland~~~ (allison@livingston.net)
Subject: A CRIMMAS POEM 
Newsgroups: alt.solipsism, alt.consciousness.4th-way
Date: 2002-12-23 17:52:09 PST 

'Twas the night before Crimmas,
And all through the group,
No one was enlightened,
Not even Moosepoop.

All the sock-puppets,
Were hanging around, 
Ready to stomp Stevie,
Into the ground.

Gordon was relaxing,
Next to the fire,
With Hyla and Buddy, 
Getting higher, and higher.

And Allen Crider, 
Was looking for truth,
Eating Alice B. Brownies, 
To quell his sweet tooth.

Atlas was chiding,
Prolly over the border,
Swami Frootloop, 
For his bipolar disorder

When out in the dumpster,
There arose a great noise,
It was The Fuckwit
Dumpster diving for toys.

Little queer Emmit, 
Thought he heard little paws,
That sounded like eight 
Tiny felching Chihuahua's

He ran to the window 
to see just what it was,
And it turned out to be 
A ni**er Santa Claus.

Who was in the cockpit,
flying up in the heaven,
In a commercial airliner,
A Boing 747.

And in the sky,
He saw a sight wild, 
It was Stevie's black lover,
The mother of his child.

The state of Denver,
Never looked cuter,
While Stevie sat typing 
At his welfare computer.

Vanilla Gorilla,
With a sniff and a cough,
Was telling the guru,
To just go fuck off. 

Judi, and Moogie,
Were doing what they do,
On this silent night,
Cause it's their birthday too.

bRay d'Kay,
Was sitting in Jail,
W' Anita playing slots,
To raise his bail.

Then Slothrop showed up,
Along with MrM,
And then came Sonny,  
And unisex Jen.

There then came a knock,
And when they opened the door,
There stood E"Piph"any,
Need I say more?

She stood tall and erect,
As in she strolled,
Quoting her teacher,
Old E.J. Gold.

And then someone said,
Stevie, is that your daughter?
And he pointed his finger 
At Reverend Helen Hiwater.

Stevie immediately,
Threw himself on the floor,
Hoping to do it 
With the crack whore next door. 

And in an exhibit
Of his Buddhafield power,
He went to the bathroom
To rub off in the shower.

Tiresias spent the night,
Sweating in the sauna,
While kidding that kid,
Little Mahja-Urana

And Mr.T,
Was spreading good cheer,
Jealous of The Fuckwit,
Who was drinking a beer.

When all of a sudden,
Uninvited I guess,
Showed up some agents, 
>From the U.S.S.S.

They drew their guns,
And made him believe, 
That they could hit him, 
As they aimed them at Steve,

And Sargeant Siri, 
Said, just for the kicks,
"We'll come down on you,
Like a whole ton of bricks."

When who should show up?
But Steve's little bud Gary,
Who, like The Fuckwit,
Looked like a fairy.

He demanded to know,
For he asked with a glower,
Where was his brother?
Was told: "In the shower!"

Gary ran to the bathroom, 
Full of happiness and hope,
Just in time to see, 
Stevie dropping the soap.

He looked in Steve's eye,
And there saw a gleam,
For in the shower,
Was the whole football team.

And ~~~AllisonWonderland~~~
As usual came late,
And reminded them all, 
That it's Crimmas I hate!

Heh heh heh heh :)


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Short Title: AltSportLasertag1

From: DrvLikeJehu42 (drvlikejehu42@aol.comPunkRock)
Subject: Loaf's "night before christmas" 
Newsgroups: alt.sport.lasertag
Date: 2002-12-24 15:43:47 PST 

Twas the night before christmas and all through LQ
not a creature was stirring, no more disco stu?!?!
With loaf in his mohawk and fu with bad hair
we were talking of memories, and games we had shared.

with daydream and company tucked in the sack,
we still both agree irishmans full of crap ;)
when from out of the air lock there came such a clatter,
we sprang from our packs to see what was the matter.

and what do my wondering eye would appier? (sp)
all the lq brothers and sisters were here!
Nova, and acid, and chow and spam,
and that goofy guy that likes orange pants.

Nate was there, big headed of corse, 
Burg on a twinkie the size of a horse (a twinkie that big?)
Va beach, and Sunrise, Akron ohio..
i looked around and tried to find wyo.

but what ever our tastes and what ever our trends.
i would never give up such wonderful friends.
after all was done, and goodbyes were said
it was time for me to go to bed.

and i said with a smile as i turned out the light.
merry motha fuckin christmas to all.....
and to all a good night.....


merry christmas you bunch of fuckin weirdos. but i wouldn't have y'all any
other way. and don't forget people who don't have a place to go tonight nor
tomorrow.
*devil horns* see you all around in the new year

:::Matthew:::


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Short Title: AltSportLasertag2

From: DrvLikeJehu42 (drvlikejehu42@aol.comPunkRock)
Subject: The Night Before Christmas (to LQ, From Loaf) 
Newsgroups: alt.sport.lasertag
Date: 2003-12-24 15:10:47 PST 
 
TWAS the night before christmas,
and all through LQ.....
Not a creature was stirring,
cause they're all fuckin newbs.....
With me in my spikes and Austin in red,
i had just sat down, to rest the poor head.....
from out of the maze they're rose such a clatter....
i got off of my ass to see what was the matter......
to what to my wondering eyes would apear....
once again the whole gang from LQ land was here....

there was nate and there was malice, yelling again.
Fatboy and Phatboy fighting. who'll win?

Daydream and scope and ninja and boh...
who the fuck is that guy......
oh thats just El - mo..

darky and solo beating up the wind
judge thane stopped by to look and jump in.

Talyor is back and playing next year
Aunt lou and couger drink too much beer.

while smoke and pancho eat in the cornor...
Cbomb and Colombo, drink the fine porter....

uleb and ray, spider and frustrated...
and hollow point came out, good thing hes not naked

big dog and blue flame, ginger and trinity...
hey whats that over there?
oh its just phish. STILL HAS HIS VIRGINITY!!!!!

to all the others in LQ land i wish good cheer.
i wish you alot and plently of beer. 
hey showtime hey horse hey hetfeild and blair.....

to all in LQ....
ones far and near.....
Merry Christmas to all.....
and a happy new year.

Matthew W. / Loafy
Part of Austins Red Army.


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Short Title: AltSportsGymnastics

   Author:   Michael P Reed
   Email: mpreed@remove.me.tdi.net
   Date: 1998/12/16
   Forums: alt.sports.gymnastics
   
Twas the night before last
  and all through the group
many a lurker were stirring.
  Yes, even the dupe.
The poster is hung below
  the ceiling with care
in hope Kendall Beck
  soon will be there.

Dave was snuggled
  all aroused in his bed
with visions of a gymnast
  dancing in a empty head,
and Rosy all permiated with sweat
  laid firm in his lap
and just settled in
  for a long winter's slap.

When out in the room
  there arose such a blather
He sprang to his monitor
  to see what was the matter.
Away to AOL
  he flew like a flash
opened into GC, and sat up
  all rigid, mouth aghast.

The soft luminessence
  of the freshly powered screen
gave Dave such a shock
  he thought he would scream.
While sruggle he did
  with fore' vain a bustin'
he read every last word
  and they were all for Dustin

With all the old drivel
  so lively and quick.
He knew in a moment
  he was in deep shit.
More rabid than a bat
  his curses did fly
and he blasphemed and shouted
  and more I did descry

"Now Missy!
        Now Britty!
Jeffery and Erin!
        He's a Fag!
A fake!"
        and ev'n worse swearin'.

"To hell with you faggots!
  I am going to the stall
Now go away!
  Go away!
Go away, all!"

And then with a sniffling
  heart all in a huff
he brayed and whinnied
  Just to show he's tough.
He drew in his breath,
  and surfed to ASG
down came the ad hominems
  ala a P-I-G

He springs to the lie
  his heart all a joy
in the hurting of others.
  The mischievous lil boy.
But to hear him exclaim
  such drivel of the kind
shows the lack of depth
  in his shallow little mind.

My apologies to Clement Clarke Moore for raping his poem.
Michael P. Reed

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Short Title: AltSuicideHoliday

From: Foxglove (didi_foxglove@REMOVEMEhotmail.com)
Subject: Asher's Night Before Christmas 
Newsgroups: alt.suicide.holiday
Date: 2002-12-24 18:00:00 PST 

Hi All!

Here's a little something I wrote in the alt.suicide.holiday spirit. 
Hope you enjoy it!

Peace!
Foxglove


Asher's Night Before Christmas
 by Didi Foxglove (aka Jennifer Michaels)
 Copyright 2002.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all throughout ASH
Not a creature was posting nor doing things rash;
The nooses were hung from the rafters with care,
In hopes that they'd soon be delivered from there;

The ashers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of razorblades sliced through their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down with a gun in our lap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I safetied the handgun to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I saw a bright flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The blood on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of death, everywhere to and fro,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a battered old sleigh and eight spattered reindeer,

With a headless armed driver, a scene rather sick,
I realized suddenly it must have been Nick.
More mangled than squirrels blasted to hell
The only thing worse was that wretched old smell;

Here's DASHER!  now, DANCER!  now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
Poor COMET!  and CUPID!  and DONNER and BLITZEN!
From the top of the porch to the top of the wall!
Their parts had flown far, Nick wasted them all!

He'd been dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all covered with blood and with soot;
A bundle of toys had been flung on his back,
But with Nick such a mess some things fell from the sack.

There were needles and vials and knives and guns,
There were ropes and poisons for everyone!
But alas he was dead, the headless old elf,
I didn't think he would mind if I helped myself.

The ashers all came to partake of the toys,
To end all their pains, and to finally know joys;
When I saw Nick's blank eyes in his severed old head,
It gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

A cocktail curare with heroin chaser,
Would do me just fine, the chemical eraser.
As I faded away, I saw old St. Nick's ghost,
Happy Christmas to All, and ne'er again shall you post!

-- 
Foxglove


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Short Title: AltSupportArthritis

Subject:      Twas the Night Before Christmas (RA Version)
From:         krissyjo@aol.com (KrissyJo)
Date:         1997/12/10
Message-ID:   <19971210151901.KAA01964@ladder02.news.aol.com>
Newsgroups:   alt.support.arthritis

Hi Gang,
Hi wrote this this morning, hope you enjoy!!!

Twas the night before Christmas,
and all thru the nest
not a creature was stirring,
'cept Arthur the pest.

The support stockings were hung
by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the laundress
would soon be there.

The children were nestled
all snug in their beds.
While visions of Play Stations
danced in their heads.

Wearing my splints
With a rice sock in my lap
I had just settled down
for a long winters nap.

When in my joints
there arose such pain,
I limped from the bed
to see if there was rain.

The moon on the breast
of the unshovled snow
Gave a luster of midday
to the objects below.

When what to my dry eyes
should appear,
but a minature medical supply truck
and eight tiny reindeer

With a little old driver
so lively and quick
I knew in a moment that my HMO
would not pay for this!

More rapid than eagles
his assistants they came.
He whistled and shouted,
And called them by name.

"Now, Dasher, now Dancer!
now Prancer and Vixen!
On Comet, on Cupid,
on Donder and Blitzen!!!

To the top of the porch,
to the top of the wall!
Now dash away dash away,
dash away all."

As the piles of unraked leaves
that before the wild hurricaine fly,
When they meet with an obstacle,
mount to the sky.

So up to the house top,
the assistants they flew,
with the truck full of adaptive equipment,
and the Doctor Nick too.

And in a twinkling
I heard (rather boring)
the wheezing and blowing
of my husbands snoring.

As I pulled up his covers
And patted his head
Down the chimney Dr. Nick
Came with a new med.

He was dressed all in white,
from his head to his foot.
His clothes were all covered
in ashes and soot.

A bundle of supplies
he had flung on his back.
He looked like a peddler
just opening his sack.

My hands how they hurt,
my knees how they ache
I knew that some people
thought I was fake.

My Methotexate injection
was drawn up in the den.
Just waiting for the nerve
to go stick it in.

The cap of the needle
I held tight in my teeth,
the RA fog
circled in my head like a wreath.

I looked at my thigh,
(I shouldnt have eaten that jelly!)
Then said " What the hell"
And injected my belly

I am chubby and plump.
Like a prednisone Elf
Nick laughed when he saw me,
In spite of his self.

A wink of his eye and
a twist of his head,
soon gave me to know
I had nothing to dread.

He wasted no time,
went straight to his work.
Gathered up all my meds,
then turned with a jerk.

He reached into his bag
and pulled out a new pill.
And put it in my mouth,
I felt such a thrill.

I sprang to my feet,
there was no more swelling.
I danced and jumped
Woke everyone up with my yelling.

I heard him exclaim
as he drove out of sight.
"Merry Christmas to all,
theres a cure tonight"

Keep Smilin'
~Krissy

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Short Title: AltSupportDepressionVistFromStBernard

From: janneke (asdaddress2@freeler.nl)
Subject: Re: A Visit From St. Bernard 
Newsgroups: alt.support.depression
Date: 2002-12-24 07:57:38 PST 
 
'Twas the night before Christmas in ASD-land
Not a troll was stirring and the silence was grand;
Bruno's stocking was hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Bernard soon would be there;

Bruno was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of chewies danced in his head;
And wombn with her squirt bottle, and Thor in his cap,
Had arrived at their keyboards and begun to tap-tap,

When out from their lawn there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from their PCs to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash,
Deleting their killfiles and emptying the cache.

The streetlights shining on the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what should they see approaching their grounds,
But a doghouse on skis, and eight tiny hounds,

With an oldly shaped driver an all fours in the yard,
They knew in a moment it must be St. Bernard!
More rapid than DSL his coursers they came,
And he whoofed and he barked, and called them by name;

"Now, DAISY! now, DOGBERT! now, AUGIE and ASTRO!
On, SNOOPY! on SNUFFLES! on, GOOFY and PLUTO!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

Like Bruno's rubber ball when Thor lets it fly,
And it meets with an obstacle, then climbs in the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the doghouse full of toys, and St. Bernard too.

They heard on the roof as they stood there in awe,
The clicking of toenails on each little paw.
As they drew in their breath and were closing the sash,
Down the chimney St. Bernard came with a crash.

He was decked all in fur, from his head to his paws,
With a large keg of brandy perched under his jaws;
A bundle of dog toys he had flung off his back,
And he looked like a mailman just opening his pack.

His nose how it twitched! His eyes how merry!
The cap on his head was as red as a cherry,
His tongue hung out loosely; it swung to and fro,
The bristles on his chin were as white as the snow;

The stump of a bone he held tight in his teeth,
The smell of it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had large floppy ears and a big round belly,
That shook, when he barked, like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old dog,
He poured out some brandy into their eggnog;
A wag of his tail and a twist of his head,
Soon gave them to know they had nothing to dread;

He made not a whimper, but went straight to his work,
And filled Bruno's stocking; then turned with a jerk,
He restored their killfiles then licking his nose,
He gave them a nod, and up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his doghouse, to his team gave a bark,
And away they flew swiftly into the dark.
Wombn and Thor heard him call, 'ere he drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ASD, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"


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Short Title: AltSupportEatingDisorders

Subject:      Night before Christmas in a.s.e.d.-land
From:         joanne.b@ix.netcom.com(Joanne Bandlow)
Date:         1997/12/25
Message-ID:   <67t1i8$op7@dfw-ixnews8.ix.netcom.com>
Newsgroups:   alt.support.eating-disorder

Hi y'all -  I'm no poet, but I wanted to offer something
on this Christmas Eve that speaks to all of the shining stars here
----------------------------------------------------------

Twas the night before Christmas, a fresh snow had fallen,
Not a creature was stirring, not even, um, Allen..
The stockings were hung by the 'puter with care,
in hopes of some downloads x-modem'ing there..

Our friends were all tucked in and snug in their beds,
while memories of chat rooms had danced in their heads.

I was watching tv, and there on the Weather,
a strange thing on radar, it could be none other.

I looked out the window, and to my surprise,
a flying sleigh driven by eight special guys.

The driver was Santa, the big guy himself,
and he called to his reindeers I could feel my heart melt -

On Dana! On Dolphin!
On Bryan and Wen!
On, Bluejay! On Pinto,
Hazel and Erin!

And then, in a twinkling, I saw in my room,
a vision of hopefulness, starting to bloom.
The jolly old elf brought us presents galore,
fabulous things not found in a store.

For Poettt a warm home and freedom from pain,
so she can continue to flourish again.

For Tasha, some friends for her long lonely nights
as she peered through her tel'scope at those distant lights.
For Ellen, a big hearty welcoming back
and some hope that her big trip will get her on track

For Leanne some courage and lightness of spirit.
for Emma the knowledge she really does merit.
For Laura the love that her daughter presents,
a million times over, so hearfully meant..

For kitten, some purrrrfectly warm, loving friends,
to her we're indebted for helping us mend.
For Sin, a safe place for her to hang out,
where she'll be well-loved for what she's about.

For Beth, Ellissa, Susan, and Jasmine,
some beautiful words that are really sublime,
"You're loved, you should know that, and more than you know,"
a message to heal and nurture us so.

For Aimee and Deborah and Kelly and Jaybee,
some self-love, esteem, and that ain't just maybe.

For all of our family, all over the world,
for sufferers that haven't been mentioned in words,
to every last one of our ased friends,
the hope that you'll one day be able to mend.

Then he finished, and smiling with that famous mug,
he offered our friends here one really big hug,

He flew up the chimney, dashed to his sleigh,
revved up the reindeers and then flew away -

But before he took off, I could hear him yell,
"Take care of yourselves... you deserve to be well!"

   ************ MERRY CHRISTMAS! **************

-joanne b.

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Short Title: AltSupportTinnitus1

Subject:      a.s.t. The Night Before Christmas
From:         sakoz@aol.com (Sakoz)
Date:         1997/12/20
Message-ID:   <19971220211601.QAA04357@ladder01.news.aol.com>
Newsgroups:   alt.support.tinnitus

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

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads
and mamma in her kerchief and I in my cap
had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a CLATTER
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave a luster of midday to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but nothing--IT WAS TINNITUS IN MY EAR.  ;-)

Hope you all have a nice holiday.

Sue K.
Gurnee, Illinois, USA

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Short Title: AltSupportTinnitus2

Subject:      Re: a.s.t. The Night Before Christmas
From:         jb2178@aol.com (JB2178)
Date:         1997/12/21
Message-ID:   <19971221022700.VAA02164@ladder02.news.aol.com>
Newsgroups:   alt.support.tinnitus

That was cute Sue - here's another one!.

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE XMAS ON AST

Twas the night before Christmas
And all thru AST
Not a message was posted
Or e-mailed to me.

My server was hooked
To this newsgroup with care
In hopes that somebody
Had a message to share.

But the members were nestled
All snug in their beds.
While "high voltage power lines"
Ran thru their heads.

And Laurie from Devon,
And Jim from the City,
Had just settled down
From a day that was *hitty (sorry, I mean a pity) :)

When out of my head
There arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed wondering
What was the matter.

So towards my computer
I ran without fail,
And turned up the volume
To hear "You Have Mail"

But the mail box was empty
Its normally jammed,
There was only one message that said,
"You've been spammed" :(

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL
     FROM
     JB2178


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Short Title: AltSurfing1

From: Foon (foon@newsguy.com)
Subject: an AS Christmas 
Newsgroups: alt.surfing
Date: 2001-12-23 21:50:34 PST 

Twas Alt Surfing

Twas the sesh before Christmas and all through AS
The profilers were trolling, good God, what a mess.

The Hub site was mounted in pure html
With hopes that the doubters would go straight to hell.

The occasional lurkers were cranked up on meds
While "in" jokes and flames went right over their heads.

With me in my bathrobe and bottle of booze,
I'd just settled down for a long ascii snooze.

When way out in Usenet there rose such a fight,
A thread miles long discussing wave height.

Away to my keyboard my fingers did fly,
In hope that my message would catch someone's eye.
I said, "Standard size is the way we should go,
Unless you're Hawaiian, then it's all double O."

When what on my flickering screen should appear,
A flood of opinion to stick in your ear.
The thread then mutated and broke every rule,
Ignoring the FAQ, someone said, wasn't cool.

Posts poured in the group, by the dozens they came,
I recognized most, some even by name.
There's Gioni and Sully, then Buddy and Neal,
BigWave and SurfSarge,  this lineups unreal!

Soon SurfDope was crafting ("like you know") a funny Haiku
While Utah flamed all with a sullen, "F**k you.
And Grey Wolf changed names as his usual scam
In the hope that Flektonez would choke on a ham.

With Andy from 'Bama and Craig from ChiTown
jb and Carson still acting like clowns.
Tim Maddux then posted a technical note,
And someone called Rico a randy old goat.

Flames flew fast and furious, (ALLITERATION!!) I covered my face,
People were trolling all over the place.
In Jersey Mark posted another clean wave,
Then cracked wise suggesting Doc's back needed a shave.

The Hub team was sparring, a terrible tiff,
Each claiming they wrote the best Javascript.
Soon Mama, Joanne, Jane, Dee Dee and Glenda
Made us appreciate their alternate gender. 

The Red Woods of SD- George, Tom Tweed and Santa
Could find nothing good in the unholy banter.
Rod harvested data attempting to choose, ah
An acceptable date for another Palooza.

Todd, G.Duke, Jose and Surff came off the bench,
And then there was Alex,  Wait UP! Isn't he French?
When former AS ers showed up out of the cold,
Someone observed they were covered with mold.

And though it was late, by the dozens they came.
To mention them all would make me look lame(er).
The chemistry quickly began to ignite
A slapfest that promised to go into the night.

The raucous discussion went well until dawn.
I found myself drinking booze out on my lawn.
"This newsgroup is wacky," I bellowed out loud.
"So how did I get involved with this crowd?"

It must be the love of the sport and these people,
To read things each day that most would call treacle.
For in spite of all these posturing folks,
There are some great people, good reading, and jokes.

I sprang to my feet and ran into the house,
Fell down the stairs (OUCH!) and grabbed up my mouse.
Then typed "Merry Christmas to all and Good Night"
And last but not least, "Hey Lemons!  YOU BITE!"

-Foon


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Short Title: AltSurfing2

From: Bud (bud@wavelust.com)
Subject: Re: Ocean Beach SF Surf report 24-12 
Newsgroups: alt.surfing
Date: 2002-12-24 13:19:51 PST 

*Clap clap clap clap*
Nice work skip. Enjoyed that, very creative!
Good surfing to you,
Bud (gone surfin)

skipper@blakestah.com wrote:

Twas the morn before Christmas
And all through the house
not a creature was stirring
not even a mouse

Good waves were expected
early would be best
I jumped out of bed
still asleep were the rest

Out the front door I flew
with my binocs in hand
to check what size waves
were hitting the sand

And what a surprise 
should alight to my sight
but thick pitching lips
going both left and right

I grabbed my eight six
and my extra thick leash
and jumped in the van 
to head down to the beach

The cold bit my skin
as I pulled my suit on
the suit and the hood
and the booties were donned 

Thick bridal veils peeled
off of each breaking crest
a sure sign of good winds
drop-ins would be a test

The waves doubled up 
reaching twice overhead
the paddle was rough
but good waves were ahead

Ten people were out
at the most crowded spot
I paddled two blocks north
And alone waves I got

The first was a left, 
followed by two rights
what a great morn to surf
just after dawn's light

Soon I grew cold
and I had things to do
so I headed on in
though the waves had been true

in the parking lot I changed
kdalle followed me out
stoke beaming from both
of us without doubt

A cold winter's morning
great waves turned out right
merry Christmas to all
and to all a good night.

-PA


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Short Title: AltTastelessJokes

   Author:   Troppigal
   Email: troppigal@aol.com.biteme
   Date: 1998/12/22
   Forums: alt.tasteless.jokes

in honor of Ian Wood, a re-post of his last Xmas verse to atj:

Subject: Eric Stender's Christmas
From: Ian D Wood 

Twas the night before Christmas, And hardly a soul
Was conscious or sober NOT EVEN BOB DOLE
When outside the window a figure appeared
With a red and white coat and a big bushy beard.

As ERIC lay sleeping alone in his bed
With dreams of BOB DOLE jokes a-filling his head...
There came such a crash through the glass and the shades,
With a large assault rifle and a pair of grenades.

He whipped off his costume with a scream of delight
" I promised I'd visit before Christmas night"
Poor Eric was stunned " Oh this cannot be true -
Forgive me for never believing in You"

And he gazed in the eyes of the trooper from Hell
The one whose proud cap-badge spelt out AOL.
And Mikey yelled out as he blew him away
" That's my Christmas gift to a.t.j."

We thanked him profusely for taking the life
Of the one whose bad jokes had caused so much strife.
So we hailed him the hero, and for his gallantry
Awarded him membership... of a real ISP

    -Troppigal

~~The squirrel's motto: "Live fast, die young,
and leave a flat patch of fur on the highway!" .~~


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Short Title: AltTheBirdCopWatch

From: FUQIT (FUQ_IT@webtv.net)
Subject: Twas the night before Christmas (Fuqit Style) ; ) 
Newsgroups: alt.thebird.copwatch
Date: 2003-12-19 15:45:16 PST 
 
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the group, 
not a poster was posting except for DJ the fruit loop.
I decided to see what the fish had to say. 
I should have known it was the same shit she posts every day.

Like others have said, "Her agenda is clear".
But I read a bit more and what to my wandering eyes did appear?  
DJ was drinking more than just beer.
A bottle of Tequila, tucked under her arm.  
Strapped with a vegetable peeler, there was sure to be harm. 

She hollered at the kids "Take a time out".
"Don't fuck with grandma and you better not pout." 
She waved the peeler at them, and the kids fled in fear.
She took a shot of Tequila and sat on her rear.     

She turned on the puter and came to copwatch.
Started issuing threats of lawsuits, arrests, and what not. 
She said to Jafo "I'm under no obligation"
when he asked what she'd do in the same situation. 

She said to Fuqit "You just keep right on talking".
Fuqit just laughed and continued the scoffing.
Although he hadn't spoken to her in quite some time,
she accused DCI of committing some kind of crime.

She accused CPK of the same crimes as well.
He was really pissing her off. It was easy to tell.  
Then when excop said the shoot was good,
she lashed out at him, as we all knew she would.

After she lashed out at nearly everyone, 
she was down to the worm. Her drinking was done. 
So she grabbed the peeler and headed to bed.
With visions of winning a lawsuit etched in her head.  

Merry Christmas Everyone!!!!


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Short Title: AltTrueCrime

Newsgroups: alt.true-crime 
From: Dog3 
Date: Fri, 24 Dec 2004 16:54:30 GMT 
Original Date: 12/11/2002 6:03:32 PM EST

Nan's Night Before Christmas 

T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, only Nan's mouse
Brandy was set by the computer with care
In hopes that old Nicholas would not go there

The ATC folks were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of destruction went through Nan's head
Nan with her scotch and Nan with her nightcap
Was about to settle down for a drunken nap

When out on the lawn arose such a clatter
Nan dropped her drink before seeing what was the matter
Away she flew to the window like a bat
Tore open the sash and smiled like a cat

The moon's full brightness on the new fallen snow
Signaled a visitor for Nan in the drive below
When to her eyes should suddenly appear
a shiney new limo, The Claque are here!

With a tall handsome driver, some called a hotsie
Nan moaned and screamed , My gawd it's a nazi
He whistled and shouted and called them by name
Now GMS! Now Barb, Now Volfie and Marthie
On Allen, On Michael and spoogie- woogie

The Clague were dressed in fur and heels
Their shirts made of leather and eel
A bundle of Gucci bags on their backs
They went straight to work, seeing the stacks

Emptying the glasses, dusting the house
Filling the fridge, cleaning her blouse
Out went the brandy, sherry and all
The computer was unplugged from the wall

Nan yelled * I do not plagiarize"
The gang is all slander and lies
They're nothing but liberal
"I know Jewish, I know biblical"

Her stocking was filled, the food flowing
All was spotless, the fire glowing
Out to the limo they sprang
The anti-cracker and her gang

The driver gave a whistle
And away the flew
like the down of a thistle
I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight
Happy Christmas to all and to all an Orbit goodnight!


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Short Title: AltWarVietnam

Subject:      Enjoy the buzz
From:         VVAGeorge@webtv.net (george wolsfeld)
Date:         1997/11/19
Message-ID:   <64vud3$lsc$1@newsd-101.iap.bryant.webtv.net>
Newsgroups:   alt.war.vietnam

Twas the night before Christmas
and I was partially alert
my perimeter was secure
with trips set in the dirt

Shadows were playing games
images appeared in my brain
The trees were making noises
things I could not explain

From out in the front
it was the giant oak tree
The trunk began to open
it totally surprised me

Not seeing one before
I had to beware
Because out of this commo-closet
came this big black bear!

As it crept through the woods
down on his knees
An F-14 fighter flew over
marking the trees

The night lit up
as if it was day
The bear screamed "I am Phildo"
you must pay, you must pay

Leaflets were falling
like snow from the sky
Pages of cannon fodder
you must buy, you must buy

I jumped to my feet
and got ready to split
To find out that it was Phildo
that piece of shit.
 

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Short Title: AntiqueArtDealer

From: Antique & Collectible Appraisals Online (appraisers@sympatico.ca)
Subject: A Dealer's Night before Christmas 
Newsgroups: rec.antiques
Date: 2001-12-23 14:25:23 PST 

Hi all,
  I posted my own version of the classic " A Night before
  Christmas" last year and thought I'd repost it just for a few
  laughs, I know I had fun writing it ;~)))

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the hall
Not a customer was stirring, they were all at the mall; 

The prints were hung on the easels with care,
In hopes that Dealers all would be there;
The Dealers were nestled in that draughty old shed,
While visions of  Stickley and Roycroft danced in their heads;
 
And mamma in her Mink, and I dressed by the GAP,
Had just pushed our way in without causing a flap,
When out on the podium there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.

Away to the porter I flew with a flash,
the one that always stutters, "we-we-we only take
cash". The lights hung from the ceiling hung dusty and low
hid the dings and the dents on the stuff down below.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a toy miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
it could be an Ives or Hubley, my memory cracklin' 
Oh my god it's a real early Maklin!

Now the old auctioneer, so lively and quick,
I knew from past dealings was a miserable prick ,
More rapid than than race cars the bidding began,
And he whined , and shouted, and the shit hit the fan;

"Now, 100  now, 120 now, 140 and 160 and 180 and 200
and 220 and 260 ! taking bids from the ceiling and bids from the
wall and bids from the phones at the back of the hall .

His eyes how they twinkled! his dentures were scary!
His cheeks were like roses, from drinking cheap sherry!
His nose was all runny and he gave it a blow ,
And he said, "who'll give 280" and continued the show;

The handle of the gavel he waved in his hand,
And the bids now came faster and higher than planned;
He had a broad face and a huge beer belly,
That shook, when he laughed and scared children silly.

He was quick and cunning, selling the sleigh from the
shelf, And I continued on bidding, in spite of myself;
then a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
let me know I was bidding against the public, nuff said;

The gavel came down and the end of the bidding,
And I could hear the commotion from where I was sitting,
The bidder who won took his treasure with care,
flipping it over to see the name that was stamped
there,

Cries of anguish were heard through the hall,
"It's made in Taiwan, It's not worth F*&K All !"
He yelled and he screamed and threatened to sue
The Auctioneer, nonplussed , knew just what to do,

He pulled off the sign that hung on the wall,
and read the fine print for the good of us all,
" it says right here"  in a voice smooth as vinyl,
" When the hammer comes down all sales are final "
I'll see you in court if you want to fight
"So happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night"

Mike Wilcox

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Short Title: AOL

Subject:      Re: Night Before Christmas
From:         andy efremov 
Date:         1997/11/24
Newsgroups:   alt.abuse.recovery

     An AOL Night Before Christmas

     Twas a month before Christmas
     From my wife came the wail,
     "Take out the garbage
     And go get the mail."

     So I trudged to my mailbox
     And what did I see?
     Why, a miniature disc
     And computer CD!

     'Twas a limited offer
     From America Online,
     I knew in a twinkling
     That this deal was fine!

     "Unlimited" access
     for one little fee,
     And if I didn't like it
     I could cancel it free.

     So I plugged the thing in
     And it just wouldn't load,
     The message said "Error!"
     And something in code.

     And this is when I
     Started getting real nervous
     So I waited four hours
     For "Customer Service."

     This techno-geek helped me
     To load and install it,
     Then demanded the VISA
     I keep in my wallet.

     So I gave him my number
     And what did I spy?
     "Terms and Conditions" screens
     Whistling by.

     Then I got me a password
     Now I'd surf the Net!
     But I never hit waves,
     Man, I never got wet.

     I soon got so mad
     I was shaking and dizzy
     For my modem kept trying
     But lines were all busy!

     And all through the month
     I kept trying this thing
     But all I would hear
     Was the "busy" sound ring.

     So I called 1-800
      And the AOL number
     And waited on hold
     'Til I lapsed into slumber.

     So I tried then to cancel
     But where's the address?
     Somewhere in Virginia?
     It's anyone's guess.

     And several days later
     I heard on the news
     That 8 million people
     Were trying to use

     This AOL network
     At the very same time
     And that's when this CEO
     Weasel-necked Slime

     Announced the solution
     On how to log on,
     Don't hog the phone lines
     And call in at dawn!

     As you can imagine
     This didn't sit well
     With lots of mad users
     Who started to yell.

     And soon the AG's
     Joined them in the attack,
     "Give them their money
     (Or at least part of it back)!"

     And this Weasle-Man leader
     Tried to calm down the throng:
     "Hey, I wanted those refunds
     For you all along!"

     So in grandiose fashion
     And a big press release
     Members were told
     How to get back their piece.

     "Just call up this number
     And ask for your money,"
     But then something happened
     That's practically funny.

     When you call up the number
     (Don't get in a tizzy)
     You can't get your refund
     Cause the damn number's busy!!!
 

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Short Title: ApocalypseBeforeChristmas

From: Phydeaux (phydeaux@www.jesusfreak.com)
Subject: Apocalypse before Christmas 
Newsgroups: alt.apocalypse
Date: 1997/01/07 

The Apocalypse Before Christmas
by Phydeaux Ghoti (aka Brian Simon)

'Twas the eve of the twenty-fourth day of the twelfth month of the third 
year of the reign of William of the Clintons. I, Brian, was at my home 
because of the Holiday of Christmas, and the house was silenced for 
about half an hour, and no creature stirred. 

I was in the Spirit when appeared to me an angel bearing the semblence 
of a librarian, for her hair was pulled up in a bun and was pierced by 
pencils. I fell to the ground, afraid, because of a number. If any is 
wise, he should calculate that number, and pay it, for it is the number 
of my overdue fines. 

"Do not fear me," the librarian said. "I am called Literary Device, and 
I have come not to exact judgment for overdue fines, but to reveal to 
you a vision that you must write down and send to the various parts of 
the world, that they may know these things." 

As she spoke, I was shown a hearth, and four unworn socks were given a 
place of prominence by the hearth. Special knowledge was given to me 
that my children, as well, had received visions from Literary Device, 
visions of sugar plums. 

In the Spirit, I, in my kerchief, was taken from my wife, in her cap, as 
she lay sleeping and restful. 

And a great noise arose from outside and from the courtyard, and my 
flesh, of its own volition, moved to the window, and flung it wide. And 
I beheld a vision of wonder, for the ground was as white as snow and the 
sky was as black as night. The angel said, "Look, son of man, to the 
north." And I looked to the north and beheld a vision of great terror. 

Out of the north arose a beast. And the beast had thrity-six legs, and 
nine tails, and nine heads, and two horns on each head. And one of the 
heads bore before it and between its horns what appeared to be a beacon, 
red as blood. 

Behind the beast, it pulled a mighty sleigh, adorned with jingle bells, 
and on the sleigh was a great and large and fat and jolly man, dressed 
in red. And with him was a large felten sack, which contained in it 
gifts, with which he would deceive even the children of the elect, if 
that were possible. 

The man shouted the blasphemous names of the heads of the beast and 
said, "Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer, now Vixen: On Comet, on 
Cupid, on Donner, on Blitzen!" And, yea, he neglected the name of the 
ninth head, which carried the beacon, red as blood, who is Rudolph. 

And the great and large and fat and jolly man cried out in a loud voice 
and commanded the beast, and the beast with thrity-six legs sought to 
land atop my demesne, and my roof shook and chattered as if it were 
struck by a thousand hailstones. 

In the Spirit, I was taken again to the hearth, and I heard a sound like 
a light breeze, increasing in power. And the breeze increased until it 
was like a rushing wind, which came out from the mouth of the hearth. 

And the hearth issued forth soot, and smoke, and all kinds of filth, and 
with it came the great and large and fat and jolly man, whose name -- 
this is a mystery -- is like unto that of the Evil One. And with him he 
carried the felten sack. 

Mirth proceeded from his mouth and his intestines rolled within him and 
shook, and he took on an appearance not unlike jelly, or jam. And the 
great and large and fat and jolly man began his work, which is to fill 
the stockings that had been given a place of prominence by the hearth 
and to place the gifts of deception under a tree. 

And when he had completed his task, he placed his finger on the side of 
his nose, and disappeared through the hearth. 

And the angel spoke once again, and asked, "Do you understand what this 
means?" 

And I answered, "How can I, unless someone explains it to me?" 

The angel spoke once more, saying, "Seal this book, for it contains 
great and mighty mysteries. Let those who will understand achieve 
understanding, and those who will be somewhat offended by cheap 
journalism be offended. And the words of this book shall be passed from 
generation to generation, unto the tenth." 

--
Brian Simon
simon@bigsimon.com


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Matthew Monroe in Richland, WA

Last Modified January 7, 2007