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.
************************************************************Short Title: CrossDressing From: Shae Guerin (shae@tic.ab.ca) Subject: Xmas poem revisited Newsgroups: alt.fashion.crossdressing Date: 2002-12-23 14:55:05 PST Here's a little refrain from alt.fashion.crossdressing last year; if you will read it with the rhyme and rhythm of the original poem, I think you will have some fun with it. 'Twas the night before Christmas, and all thru the house I was making my plans to look more like my spouse I carefully laid out my very best clothes My bra and my panties, my slip and my hose My stockings weren't hung by the chimney tonite They were on me instead, feeling sensually tight My dress was of velvet, a burgundy red And on my long nails a new polish was spread With makeup and jewelry, high heels on my feet I was looking so sexy, and feeling so sweet When out in the yard there arose such a noise That I sprang from my bedroom, forgetting my poise The moon on the snow with it's brilliant white glitter Reminds me of lace, to set my heart a-twitter When what to my long-lashed eyes should appear But a person in red with a sleigh and reindeer But I couldn't tell, was it a 'he' or a 'she' The one with the pack was dressed somewhat like me There in the sleigh was this 'cutsey' old flirt With a white wig and makeup, a red blouse and skirt The reindeer were sparkling, with rhinestones and pearls And their antlers in ribbons, so they all looked like girls When s/he stepped from the sleigh, to my eyes were revealed Her knee-hi black boots with their seven-inch heels Santa just blushed, but I stood there and smiled And said, "Hello, my dear, can you stay for awhile?" "Well you finally caught me", he said with a pout "At this time on Christmas, folks are seldom about." "I don't go enfemme very ofen at home, Mrs Clause doesn't like it, so I do it alone. "So when I give out goodies to make others smile "I like to feel pretty and femme for awhile." "So I ride off dressed up, from my hi-heels to wig, "On Christmas eve night while I'm doing my gig." I said, "Don't worry Santa, your secret is safe Why don't you come in and just freshen your face." We sat and we talked and vented our passion For feminine frills and the latest new fashions We finally parted with a hug and a kiss S/he said, "I must go now, or some children I'll miss" I went to my party and had a great time With music and laughter and good food and wine But when I returned and looked under my tree I found some new pretties from sweet Santa to me Lacy panties, a bra and a soft satin blouse Perfumes and some candles to light up my house But it wasn't the goodies that swept away my blues It was knowing that Santa was a crossdresser too So next time don't judge all the people you meet By what they are wearing when out on the street For in being onesself, there's no 'wrong or right' Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night with thanks to: dawn_dctg@worldnet.att.net -- Have fun, Shae shae@tic.ab.ca http://www.tic.ab.ca/~shae/ http://ca.profiles.yahoo.com/shae2001ca http://groups.yahoo.com/group/closetedcrossdresser/ ************************************************************ ************************************************************
Short Title: CrossroadsOfTwilight(RobertJordan) From: Kenneth G. Cavness (kenn@cavness.org) Subject: A Hastily Contrived Poem Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.written.robert-jordan Date: 2002-12-24 07:46:40 PST So, don't knock it too much; I thought of it in the shower. 'Twas the Crossroads of Twilight, when all through the text, Not a plotline was stirring; no-one knew what came next. The characters were stuck in a quagmire of haze Hoping that Jordan their arcs he would raise. The Darkfriends were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of completion danced in their heads; And though they had been through all this shit before, They felt they could give him this last chance -- no more! When out on the 'froup there arose such a clatter, I flicked on my monitor to see what was the matter! Away to the newsgroup I flew like a flash, Clicked on Gravity; then started to mash. The keys on the keyboard of the much-abused machine Were going so fast, my eyes were agleam When what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a gigantic tome, through which I could peer. The annoyance of lesser novels all past I tore open the book and let the time fly. More rapid than I could have thought the words came But as I read further, I thought, "this is lame!" "Where's Nyneave! Where's Masema? Where's Rand, Mazrim too? Where's Moiraine, and Merrilin; Mat's still with the ZOO!? What the fuck have you done for the past two years, Bob? My three-year-old-neice could write this better, you slob!" He was chubby and plump, a right portly old man, And I cringed away when he noticed I saw him. A wink of his eye, a twisted, huge grin, I saw at once that I'd been taken in. He spoke not a word, merely forming an "L" He placed it against his bright, pallid brow And pointed a mocking finger, he did Soon gave me to know he'd done it again. He sprang to his Porsche, to his man a command, And away Rigney sped 'afore the series could end. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove through the night, "I'VE GOT YOUR MONEY, SUCKER; NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" ************************************************************ ************************************************************
Short Title: Cthulhu From: Arthur Levesque (bs@boog.orgASM) Subject: 'TWAS THE CALL OF CTHULHU Newsgroups: alt.horror.cthulhu, alt.coven.cthulhu, alt.sex.cthulhu Date: 1998/12/01 'TWAS THE CALL OF CTHULHU By Arthur Levesque -- bs@boog.org -- http://boog.org (A parody of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas") 'Twas the Call of Cthulhu, all the stars were right Every artist was stirring was odd dreams all night Elder signs were hung at Miskatonic U In hopes it would save them from Great Cthulhu The Deep Ones were gathered on the ocean beds While dreaming of feasting on raw human heads Our schooner on the South Seas, on her maiden cruise Had just battened down for a long drunken snooze When out on the sea the waves started to splatter I jumped from my bunk to see what was the matter Away to the porthole I tripped and I fell I jumped up and looked out and cursed "What the hell!" The moon on the beach as a new island rose Gave more light than I wanted; I looked and I froze When what to my gibbering sight should appear But an old eldritch city with angles so queer With a mountain of blubber, green viscuous slime-goo I knew by some instinct it was Cthulhu! More rapid than serpents his tentacles came And we heard in our heads as he called out some names "Now Wilbur! Young Whately! Lavinia! Yog-Sothoth! Come minions from Innsmouth and Fungi from Yuggoth! From Mountains of Madness to this humble blue ball Now slash away, crash away, smash away all!" As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly My crew beat a rapid retreat and so did I Then out of his prison called Great Cthulhu With plans for all of us that we somehow all knew And then in a twinkling I saw mankind's fate All dancing and bowing on his dinner plate As I ducked down my head and was turning around From the mongrel ship's engineer came an odd sound He walked up to a star hanging on this big door But the angles were all wrong, it might have been floor A matter of seconds, he ripped off the seal He had done it so quickly I had no time to squeal My eyes, how they gibbered! My screaming, so eerie! Great Cthulhu was loose, what could be more scary? His bright angry eyes, all his tentacles loose My first mate disappeared down an angle obtuse The rest of the crew made it back to the boat Cthulhu, he followed us as we set afloat He had great bat wings, the head of a squid I can't even describe the next few things he did! He was chubby and plump, head big as a villa And I knew when I saw him, he'd eat Godzilla A wink of an eye and a twitch of his head Grabbed him twelve crewman, all better off dead He spoke not a word but came straight on fast And ate all the others and left me for last Him chewing his dinner, I reversed my ship And crying a curse rammed his gigantic hip He burst into a fog and his island went down But he reformed again before I could turn around Then I heard him exclaim as he sank out of sight "This ain't the last time all the stars will be right!" -- /\ Arthur Levesque 2A4W <*> bs@boog.orgASM =/\= http://boog.org __ \B\ack King of the Potato People"Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn!" (oO) \S\lash Member of a vast right-wing conspiracy (-O-) Urban Spaceman /||\ \/ I was a lesbian before it was fashionable "I hate rainbows!"-EC ************************************************************ ************************************************************
Short Title: CyberspaceSanta Subject: Santa in Cyberspace Date: 12/8/00 Much of how we imagine Santa derives from Clement Clark Moore's "Twas the Night Before Christmas", written in 1823. At the risk of getting on Santa's naughty list, humorist and cartoonist Michael Shaw chronicles a Claus makeover for 2000, as the digital world reshapes even our holidays" Santa In Cyberspace "Twas the month before Christmas and all through the house Not a PC was stirring, not even a mouse. It seemed that Santa had lost his cachet And the notion of Christmas? Rather passe'. The children had not even written their letters, "Give us a break", they cried, "E-mail is better!" And mom, watching Martha, had to agree As she wrote down a recipe for St. John's Wort tea. Yeah, they are right, Dad thought with a sigh, Santa's shtick is tired - he's a no happenin' guy. But little did they know that up at the North Pole St. Nick himself was searching his soul. He gathered his elves for brainstorming sessions. "We're rebranding Santa!" he told his little green hessians. They sketched action plans and assembled the troops, Brought in consultants and arranged focus groups. A motivational speaker with shiny big teeth Exhorted our man "to awaken the Kringle beneath!" Santa's diet was Atkin's, his workouts aerobic He popped pills of palmetto, ginkgo and garlic. He abandoned his fur trim for a fun, festive boa. Centered his chi and poliched his aura. Even the reindeer were restless and nervous As they were given the name of an outplacement service. In flew image gurus and Mad Ave's best brains And in just a week they'd launched the campaign. A message was spammed throughout the Net: "Prepare yourself for the phatest Claus yet!" So a newfangled Santa did every talk show From Regis to Oprah - and even Leno. His neatly trimmed goatee had a certain allure, and that tailored red jumper? The hautest couture. Santa said "I've broomed that old chimney routine, Now I only do Windows, if you know what I mean. No more bundles and props from that tired old part, The Claus Operation is is awesome, state-of-the -art!" The kids went wild for the brand-new St. Nick Even mom had to notice his health-club physique And dad was impressed, he had to admit, Even ordered his book "Claus: The Man and the Myth." Now 'tis 11:05 on the 24th The packages are rushing down from the North, The kids just can't sleep - when will they arrive? Santa's sending this cookie to every hard drive: "Here's one last message before I go, A Merry Christmas dot com! One last IPO!" ************************************************************ ************************************************************
Short Title: DaveBarry
Subject: Christmas Humor (long)
From: dn124@FreeNet.Carleton.CA (Jason Mole)
Date: 1997/12/09
Message-ID: <66k073$d2@freenet-news.carleton.ca>
Newsgroups: ncf.sigs.religion.pagan
'Twas the Night before the Morning After
by Dave Barry
'Twas the Night Before the Morning After Christmas
Or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or whatever religious holiday your particular family
unit celebrates at this time of year via mass retail purchases
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Except Dad, who was stirring his third martini
In a losing effort to remain in a holiday mood
As he attempted to assemble a toy for his 9-year-old son, Bobby
It was a highly complex toy
A toy that Dad did not even begin to grasp the purpose of
A toy that cost more than Dad's first car
A toy that was advertised relentlessly on TV with a little statement in the
corner of the TV screen that said "SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED"
Which was like saying that the Titanic sustained "some water damage"
Because this toy had more parts than the Space Shuttle
And speaking of space, Dad was now convinced that extraterrestrial life did indeed exist
Because the assembly instructions were clearly written by beings from another galaxy
And these beings insisted on Phillips screwdrivers
And Dad could not find his Phillips screwdriver
In fact, he was wondering who "Phillips" was
And why he needed a different kind of screwdriver than everybody else
That was the festive holiday thought that Dad was thinking as he took a slug
from his martini and attempted to attach Part 3047-b to Part 3047-c using a steak knife
But other than that, not a creature was stirring in the house
Although Mom was definitely stirring OUT of the house
Mom was at the Toys "R" Us store
In fact, this was the fifth Toys "R" Us store that Mom had been to that night
In her desperate quest to find the one thing that their 5-year-old daughter,
Suzy, wanted this holiday season
It was, of course, a Barbie doll
But not just ANY Barbie doll
It had to be the new model
Abdominals Barbie
The one who came with her own little pink stomach-muscle-exercise device
It was the hottest Barbie doll of all this holiday season
Every girl age 3 through 12 in the entire United States HAD to have it
Or her holiday season would be RUINED
And so of course the Mattel Corporation
Which is run by evil trolls from hell
Had manufactured exactly eight units of this doll
And the very last one in the world was in this particular Toys "R" Us
Which means that the odds were against Mom
Because on this same festive night
Thousands of other frantic parents had converged on this same store
Kind of like the flesh-eating zombies in the movie Night of the Living Dead
Only less ethical
The store was a war zone
Mom had to fight her way into the doll aisle
Where, wielding a Tonka Truck like a club
She claimed her prize
And then, trailed by a screaming mob of rival parents
She raced from the store, leaped into her car and roared out of the parking lot
Barely missing the Salvation Army person
She raced back to the house, burst through the front door and staggered into the family room
Where she found Dad
Actually she found Dad's feet
The rest of Dad was under the sofa
A strange gurgling sound was coming from down there
Dad, now on his fifth martini
Was trying to strangle the dog
Which, Dad was convinced, had eaten Part 8675-y
And just at that very moment
Out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
That Dad let go of the dog
And he and Mom went to the window to see what was the matter
And what to their wondering eyes should appear
But Santa Claus, yelling the names of reindeer
"Now Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Vixen! Now . . . Umm . . . Now . . . Dancer!"
"He already said Dancer," observed Dad
"He can't remember them all," said Mom
"I think one of them is Pluto," said Dad
"Wasn't Pluto the guy who was always fighting with Popeye?" said Mom
"You're thinking of Bluto," said Dad
"Now . . . Umm . . . Now Flicka!" said Santa
"Flicka was a horse, that I DO know," said Mom
"Do you think the reindeer are wrecking the lawn?" said Dad
"They're going up on the roof," said Mom
"Like hell they are," said Dad, who had recently spent $875 on shingle
repair
But before he could yell at St. Nicholas to stop
Down the chimney the jolly elf came with a plop
He had a broad face and a round little belly
That shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly
Which was pretty gross
"What's so funny?" asked Dad
"You two," said St. Nick. "Why are you getting all upset about toys? The
holiday season isn't about material possessions!"
"Do you have kids?" asked Mom
"Well, no," said Santa
"Hah," said Mom
"But I am beloved by children the world over," said Santa
"Well," said Dad, "you won't be beloved by our son if I can't assemble
this toy"
"What seems to be the problem?" said Santa, coming over to have a look
"I'm stuck on Step 824," said Dad
"Who wrote these instructions?" asked Santa. "Martians?"
"Apparently," said Dad
"I used to be pretty good with tools," said Santa. "Hand me that steak
knife"
"Sure," said Dad. "Care for a martini?"
"Heck yes," said Santa
And so he went to work
And after a while Mom and Dad, exhausted, went to bed
Leaving old St. Nick in the family room
He said some pretty unsaintly words
But he eventually got Bobby's toy assembled
And although he spent so much time that he was unable to visit the rest of
the little boys and girls
in North America
Not to mention South America, Europe, Asia and Africa
This particular household had a very happy Christmas morning indeed
When Suzy came downstairs and saw Abdominals Barbie
And Bobby came downstairs and saw his incredibly complex toy
Which he broke in under four minutes
A new holiday record
But it was still a festive day
Especially when Mom and Dad told the fantastic story of their late-night
visitor
Which, at first, the kids did not believe
In fact, even Mom and Dad were not 100 percent sure it had happened
Until Dad got out the ladder
And one by one they climbed up to the roof
And there they saw it . . .
As real as life . . .
A Holiday Miracle . . .
Reindeer poop.
(And $1,097.36 worth of shingle damage.)
************************************************************
************************************************************
Short Title: Deadlines Author: KLrebel Email: klrebel@aol.com Date: 1998/10/29 Forums: alt.fan.dragons Twas the night before deadlines When all through the lair, There came a scream Of pain and despair. Next to a desk Hunched over a keyboard Was a black dragon Using Microsoft Word. "Woe is me!" The black dragon cried, "My printer is trashed, The program has died! After weeks of planning, And hours of typing, My printer won't work!" She continued griping. "How can I finish? My project is due, From half past twelve, To a quarter to two! It just isn't fair, For me to fail This project, when I've worked Through snow, sleet and hail!" She rebooted and rebuilt, She installed and trashed All the programs that were Simply pains in the ass. And still her printer Refused to give out The essay she needed To pass: how she'd shout! Finally, in a flash Of inspiration, She redid the whole thing And had a celebration! For it printed! It spat out Her essential essay. "Hooray!" She cried. "This is my lucky day!" "Now I can finally Get back to sleep!" But it was too late, She was in it too deep. Because in her trials During the night, The hours had passed Into late morning light! And so off to school She went with a sigh. But where is the essay? She left it home! Aye! ------- Merinasanith K'tell Sorellan "For the last time, Mulder, the truth is NOT out there!" DC.?(D) f+ s(RL--VR+) h++ CMKwS a- $ m d+ WL++# Fr L BF e++ g-- i+! ************************************************************ ************************************************************
Short Title: DepartmentStore
from http://www.spring-tree.com/christmas.html
'Twas the month before Christmas,
and all through the store,
Each department was dripping with
Yuletide decor.
The Muzak was blaring an out-of-tune carol,
And the fake snow was falling on "Ladies' Apparel."
I'd flown many miles from the North Pole this day,
To check on reports which had caused me dismay.
I'd come to this store for but one special reason,
To see for myself what went on this Season.
I hid in a corner and in a short while
He shouted an order to "Turn the store tree on!"
And also the "NOEL" in blinking pink neon.
Up high, grandly hanging from twin gold supports,
Four hundred pink angels flew over "Men's Shorts."
And towering over the Rear Mezzanine,
A 90-foot Day Glo "Nativity Scene."
The clock on the wall said two minutes to Nine,
The floorwalkers proudly all stood in line.
I watched while the President smelled their carnations,
Then called out his final command-"Man Your Stations!"
When out on the street there arose such a roar,
It rang to the rafters and boomed through the store.
It sounded exactly like street-repair drilling,
Or maybe another big Mafia killing.
I looked to the doors, and there banging glass,
Was a clamoring, shrieking, hystericalmass.
And I felt from the tone of each scream and each curse,
That the "Spirit Of Christmas" had changed for the worse.
The clock it struck Nine, and the door opened wide,
And that great human avalanche thundered inside.
More fearsome than Sherman attacking Atlanta
Came parents and kiddies with just one goal-"Santa!"
In front stormed the mothers, all brandishing handbags,
As heavy and deadly as 20 pound sandbags.
With gusto they swung them, the better to smash ears,
Of innocent floorwalkers, buyers, and cashiers.
Egged on by their parents, the kids had one aim,
To get to the man who was using my name.
They mobbed him and mauled him, the better to plead,
For the presents they sought in their hour of greed.
The President watched with a gleam in his eye,
As he thought of the toys that the parents would buy.
Of all Christmas come-ons, this crowd would attest,
That a visit to "Santa" was clearly the best.
It was all too much for my soul to condone,
And I let out a most unprofessional moan.
The crowd turned around, and I'll say for their sake,
That they knew in an instant I wasn't fake.
"I've had it," I told them, "with fast-buck promoting,
With gimmicks and come-ons and businessmen gloating.
This garish display of commercialized greed,
Is so very UN-Christmas, it makes my heart bleed!"
Frank Jacobs, Mad Magazine, Jan 1969.
************************************************************
************************************************************