Canonical List of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas Variations
Version 2007.1
Part 14 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: Dirty01
Newsgroups: rec.humor
Subject: The Night Before Christmas
Message-ID: <322f31e7.16315595@netnews.worldnet.att.net>
From: lbueno@inch.com (Luis Bueno)
Date: Thu, 05 Sep 1996 20:04:29 GMT
Reply-To: lbueno@inch.com
Organization: Un Monde Sans Frontieres
[I didn't write this, no flames, please! :-)]
The Night Before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
the whole goddamn family was drunk as a louse,
with mom in the whore house and dad in jail,
I sat myself down to a cold glass of ale.
When out on the lawn, I heard such a clatter,
I got off my sister to see what was the matter.
And what to my stoned-out eyes should appear,
but a shitty old sleigh and eight fucking reindeer.
With a dirty old man who was beating his dick,
I knew at that moment, it must be St. Nick.
He flew across the lawn and up the house wall,
he cried onward you bastards or it's off with your balls.
Then down the chimney he came like a bat out of hell,
I knew at that moment, the fat fucker fell.
He filled all the stockings with drugs and beer,
and a big rubber dick for my brother who's queer.
And up again he went with a fart,
that son of a bitch blew my chimney apart.
And I heard him say as he flew out of sight,
"piss on you all it's been a hell of a night."
--Unknown author
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Short Title: Dirty02
A Christmas story for the delinquent in all of us.
By Dean Klear
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
The whole damn family was as drunk as a louse.
Grandma and Grandpa were singin' a song,
And the kid was in bed, floggin' his dong.
Ma home from the cathouse, And I out of jail,
We had just settled down for a good piece of tail.
When out on the lawn, Arose such a clatter,
I sprang off Ma to see what the fuck was a matter.
Away to the window, I made a mad dash,
Flew open the shutters and fell on my ass.
But what to my bloodshot eyes but appear,
A rusty old sled and a dozen rein deer,
And a little old driver holding his dick,
I knew right away it was that bastard St. Nick.
(Santa)"On dasher, on Blitzen, up over those walls,
"Quickly now, damnit, or I'll cut off your balls."
Upon the roof, he fondered and fell,
And came right down the chimney like a bat out of hell.
He staggered and stumbled on over to the door,
Tripped over his cock, and fell on the floor.
And I heard him explain, as he rode out of sight,
"Piss on you all, It's been a hell of a night."
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Short Title: Dirty03
From: Sally (ladysally@lickmeqwest.net)
Subject: OT: Joke...The Naughty Night Before Christmas
Newsgroups: alt.support.stop-smoking
Date: 2002-12-15 21:37:41 PST
The Naughty Night Before Christmas!
'Twas the night before Xmas and all through the house
The whole damn family was drunk as a louse
Grandma and Grandpa were singing a song
And the kid was in bed flogging his dong
Ma, home from the cat house, and me out of jail
Had just crawled into bed for a nice piece of tail
When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter
I jumped out of bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Threw open the shutters and fell on my ass
The moon on the crest of the new fallen snow
Gave a whore-house-like luster to the objects below
When what to my blood shot eyes should appear
But a rusty old sleigh and two mangy reindeer
With a little old driver a pounding his dick
I knew in a moment, it must be Saint Nick
Slower than snails his reindeer they came
He bitched and he swore as he called them by name
Now Dancer, now Prancer, up over the walls
Quick now, damn it, or I'll cut out your balls.
Then up to the roof he stumbled and fell
And came down the chimney like a bat out of hell
He staggered and stomped and went to the door
Tripped on his peter, and fell on the floor
I heard him exclaim, as he rode out of sight:
Piss on you all, this is a hell of a night.
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Short Title: Dirty04
Newsgroups: rec.humor
Subject: Obnoxious Nite Before Christmas
Message-ID:
From: hapmstr@thepoint.net (Tony D. Lowe)
Date: Sat, 23 Dec 1995 02:56:20 GMT
Sender: usenet@news.zippo.com
Organization: HapMaster Enterprises
This one is a little obnoxious...But funny anyway...Enjoy it too.
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, everyone felt
shitty, (even the mouse). Mom on the toilet, and Dad smoking grass, I
had just settled down for a nice piece of ass. When out on the roof I
heard such a clatter, I sprang from my piece to see what was the matter.
While up on the roof, I saw some old prick, I knew in a moment it must
be Saint Nick. He came down the chimney like a bat out of Hell. I knew
in a second, the old fucker had fell. He filled all the stockings with
whiskey and beer, and had a big rubber dick for my brother the queer.
He rose up the chimney with a thundering fart. The son of a bitch blew
my chimney apart. He swore and he cursed as he rode out of sight.
"Piss on you all, its been one hell of a night!"
--
Tony D. Lowe, The HapMaster
Louisville, KY
hapmstr@thepoint.net
http://www.thepoint.net/~hapmstr
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Short Title: Dirty05
From: sinistersteve (sinniistersteve@attbinospam.com)
Subject: 'Twas the night before dooms day'
Newsgroups: alt.pro-wrestling.wwf
Date: 2001-12-18 19:53:01 PST
Twas the night before doom's day
and all through the house everyone
felt shitty, even the mouse.
Mom at the whorehouse and
Dad smoking grass, and I just
settled down for a nice piece of ass.
When out on the lawn I heard
such a clatter, I sprang from my piece
to see what was the matter.
Then out on the lawn I saw a
big dick, I knew in a moment
it must be St. Prick.
He came down from the chimney like
a bat out of hell, I knew in a
moment the fucker had fell.
He filled all the stockings with
pretzels and beer, and a big rubber
dick for my brother the queer.
He rose up the chimney with a
thunderous fart, the son of a bitch
blew the chimney apart.
He swore and he cursed as he rode
out of sight, "Piss on you all and
have one hell of a night!!!"
Happy Christmas and have a merry New Year.
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Short Title: Dirty06
Newsgroups: rec.humor
Subject: Re: mdwyer's TXT Files
Message-ID: <36iojm$1k3p@yuma.ACNS.ColoState.EDU>
From: mdwyer@lamar.ColoState.EDU (Michael Dwyer)
Date: 1 Oct 1994 04:29:42 GMT
References: <36in5l$1k3p@yuma.ACNS.ColoState.EDU>
Organization: Colorado State University, Fort Collins, CO 80523
Keep this away from the kids. Its kinda offensive. But its fun!
I bid you good day! (I had some more of these *somewhere* ... where the
hell did I put them?!) Back to you later!
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
everyone was getting laid, even the mouse.
With Ma in her whore house and dad in jail,
I had just settled down for a nice piece of tail...
When out on the lawn, there rose such a clatter,
I sprang from my sister-in-law to see what was the matter.
I threw open the shudders and threw out the hash,
tripped over my boner and busted my ass.
And out on the lawn but what should appear
but a rusty ol' sleigh, and 8 fucking reindeer.
Out of the sleigh jumped a big, fat dick...
and I knew in an instant it must be St. Prick.
"To the top of the roofs, to the top of the walls,
on you bastards before I cut off your balls!"
He came down the chimney like a bat outta Hell,
and I knew for a fact the poor fucker had fell.
He filled the stockings with pretzels and beer,
and a big rubber dick for my brother the queer.
Then he rose up the chimney with a thunderous fart,
that son of a bitch, he blew the damn thing apart!
And he cursed and he swore as he rode out of sight,
"Fuck you all, I've had one hell of a night!"
* Origin: The Neutral Zone - 904-794-0975 (143:904/794)
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Short Title: Dirty07
From: Congenital Kano (jrsdad@attbi.com)
Subject: A Visit from St. Pig (Appologies to Major Henry Livingston Jr. or Clement Moore)
Newsgroups: alt.psst.hoy
Date: 2001-12-24 21:08:08 PST
Twas the night before Christmas (Christmas Day in PI,
where my male relos already are drunker than I).
Bob Chin was out shopping; he just couldn't sleep.
What DO you get an inflatable sheep?
JT was snoring, his face in a grin;
dreaming next Christmas Bill Gates worked for HIM!
Vina was in her chic Paree digs,
wondering why all men are such pigs.
Hudsy was nestled all snug in Mom's bed,
vain visions of puberty danced inhis head.
The Cap'n and Rosie were all snuggled warm,
ready to play "Any port in the storm".
LeeBat sat reading his own Dickens tale,
where Scrooge has the Spirits all sent to jail.
Clueless was lying, his head in a whirl,
about what he's done with that "St. Pauli" girl.
Penny told Santa that he had no class,
for pinching her "fine Filipina ass".
Dom pondered quoteables in the bathroom tonight,
the "Victoria's Secret" catalog prividing the cites.
Chris slept in his jammies, a grammar near by
-- Dear Santa, please bring a life for this guy!
PP2's absence has left us bereft;
has anyone checked with the Abu Sayeff?
Into the night labored Doc NGO,
trying to keep all of us in the know.
And Timmy? Our resident liberal talker?
I heard that his name is now "Johnny Walker".
Maria in her flannel, and I in my briefs,
had settled in bed with twin sighs of relief.
She'd already dampened my holiday cheer
-- "Not tonight you horn dog, all the family is near!"
The noise on the lawn had me up in a rage,
I ran to the window, tossed up my 12 gauge.
When what did my sleep-heavy eyes dimmly see,
but a Jeepney and a really drunk DSP.
I'd pulled in my head and was turning around
when he kicked in the door, came in with his hound.
I flew down the stairs, fell on a San Mig empty,
to see the dog take a dump in the chimney.
Ol' Chip was erect (er, he stood up real straight),
and started to load lumpia onto his plate.
"More ribs!" he yelled, "More pata and brew!
More diniguan, and chicharon, too!"
I stood there aghast as he ate and he drank,
everything in the house, then belched (really rank!).
Then pulling a booger out of his nose,
he flicked it at me and said, "Gotta drain my hose."
I pointed him to the head with chagrin;
when he came out he warned, "Better not go in!!"
Then he burped again, really loud this time,
and staggered outside the scene of his crime.
And I heard him growl out as he weaved out of sight,
"Not bad for a white boy, f*ck you, and good night!"
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Short Title: Dirty08
From: Pat D (dpatrick@volcanomail.com)
Subject: 'Twas the night before X-mas at Doc's place
Newsgroups: alt.journalism.gonzo
Date: 2002-12-20 13:57:53 PST
... a piece of crap I whipped up. My hubris unfortunately forces me
to post it:
It was somewhere around X-mas, when all thru Owl Farm
Not one bastard was calling, not even Ol' Blue Arm*
The rough drafts were strewn about the kitchen without a care
In hopes that Simon & Schuster's advance check would be there
The groupie was nestled in my bed
With visions of halluncionary lizards in her head
And a neighbor threatening to put a cap in my ass
For settling in Woody Creek as a person with no class
When out by the front gate an electronic shock clattered
I sprang from the kitchen table to see what the hell was the matter
Maybe one of those damn peacocks were sneaking into the trash
Ripped savagely at the shutters and lit some hash
"The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow"
Sounds like F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote that, y'know
Then, to my bloodshot eyes should appear
Some fat bastard being pulled by eight deer
The Angels should be honored to ride with this prick
Who goes by several names, Kringle and/or Nick
"More rapid than eagles his coursers they came"
Who wrote that? Joseph Conrad's not his name
What?!! Did I just say that?
"Now Dasher, now Dancer, Prancer and Vixen"
Goddamn, those must be some hot-looking strippers
"On Comet, on Cupid, on Donder and Blitzen"
What kind of sick bastard gives those names out then?
And then, I heard one of those deer tinkling on my goddamn roof
I'd like to pick off each one of those beasts owned by that pooft
As I reached for my gun, and was turning around
Splat! Down thru the fireplace came Kringle with a bound
He was effeminately dressed in some red thing that came to a point
His clothes were tarnished with pinholes burns, no doubt from joints
A bundle of toys (stolen probably) flung on his back
And he looked like Ernest Hemingway on X and crack
His eyes, damn, they're redder than Mayor Marion Berry
His empty li'l packet of paper made his deviated septum like a cherry
His sarcastic mouth couldn't be made out from his unshaven face
And I swear this f---er was surely doing blow for his marathon race
"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 bowlful of jelly"
-- H.L. Mencken once described the shifty bastard that way.
But then again, Mencken had an affinity for certified crazies.
But not me, Bubba. Not this bastard.
I grabbed my sawed-off 12 gauge shotgun and ran onto the porch
"Get off my roof, you f---ing whore! Do you think you're dealing with
children here?"
"Ho, ho, ho, Merry --- ?" The bastard wasn't gonna get another word
out of his mouth,
As the shotgun blast missed him and gave the bastard pause.
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot me, Mr. Thompson. It's Claus!"
"Damn it, I know damn well who you are, Fat Man. That's exactly why
I'm shooting.
Last year you drank all my bourbon, smoked all my pot, hash and opium,
hoovered all my snow, did up my speed, and ate all my acid!"
"Um, excuse me, Mr. Thompson. I think you may have those statements
confused. It was YOU last year who did all those things.
You made me sit in your kitchen saying that you wanted to show me that
you, like reindeer, really know how to fly.
My good sir, I must admit I never saw your feet leave the ground, not
even once. So, that would make me innocent of any of your
accusations."
"What!! Are you calling me a god damn liar?!
Arrrgggggggh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
That was The Last Straw. I decided the old bastard was going to
Really Pay now.
Unbeknownst to me, a small patch of black ice developed on one of the
stairs leading down from the porch and caused me to slip.
Before I could get up from the ground, one of his deer shat on me from
the roof. (I found out later it was the alcoholic one called Rudy).
"Savage scum!" I screamed as I struggled to my feet, but it was to no
avail, as the deer dung was stinging my eyes like nothing I felt since
Chicago 1968.
Claus obviously saw this as his change to escape. He sprang to his
sleigh, to his team gave a sharp whistle and a sharp crack of his
whip.
Funny how one never sees the whip in any artist's rendition of Claus.
I did hear him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"F--- you, Thompson! F--- you!! You'll never see the likes of me
again!
You're a very, very bad man, Mr. Thompson! Good night!"
Yeah "Merry Christmas to you, Claus" in jail !!
(to be continued)
* see "Curse of Lono"
HAPPY HOLIDAYS YOU BASTARDS !!
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Short Title: Dirty09
From: EEng (unmaileeng@budget.net)
Subject: Twas The Night Before Xmas....modified
Newsgroups: alt.dss.hack
Date: 2002-12-18 16:50:45 PST
Twas.....
by EEng
Twas the night before Christmas and Santa was pissed,
His suit was not ready, he was feeling quite dissed.
The reindeers were hung over from partying with the elves
And the gifts were not wrapped nor stocked on the shelves.
The sleigh was a shambles from the night before
When the elves got drunk and crashed it and a runner they tore.
To make matters worse the angel had not yet returned
With the tree Santa had sent him to find and adorn.
So with great resolve and commitment St Nick made repairs,
In hopes that his efforts would prevent any despair
He fastened a board for the sleigh on to race,
Since the runner was totaled, this would have to replace.
Then while his suit soaked in the tub he gathered the toys,
And boxed, stamped, and bagged them for all the girls and the boys.
Now on the line by the fire his clothing to dry
As he tried to find something to make the sled fly.
Some flying pigs from the stable just might do the trick
But who ever saw pigs fly and pulling St Nick?
The gifts in his bag went in the sleighs back,
His suit now clean and dry hung on the clothes rack.
Good ol Santa got dressed and entered the sleigh
When who should show up but the angel (he'd been gone for days)
Here's that tree that you wanted even though I'm real late
What the heck does it matter as long as its great.
So YO Santa dude, where shall I stick it to be
Which is why to this day, the angel sits on the tree.
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Short Title: Dirty10
Subject: A Christmas forward
From: bdastard@digmo.org.remove (Birdman)
Date: 1997/12/09
Message-ID: <66k6mb$ok4$1@news.missouri.edu>
Newsgroups: alt.drunken.bastards
No Christmas this year!
Twas the night before Christmas - Old Santa was pissed,
he cussed out the elves and threw down his list.
Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks,
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works.
I've busted my ass for damn near a year,
instead of thank Santa, what do I hear?
The old lady bitches, cause I work late at night,
The elves want more money - the reindeer all fight.
Rudolph got drunk, and goosed all the maids,
Donner is pregnant, and Vixen has AIDS.
And just when I thought that things would get better,
those assholes from IRS sent me a letter.
They say I owe taxes - if that ain't damn funny,
who the hell ever sent Santa Clause any money?
And the kids these days - they are all just the pits,
they want the impossible, those mean little shits..
I spent my whole year, making wagons and sleds,
Assembling dolls, their arms, legs, and heads..
I made a ton of yo-yo's, with no requests for them,
They want software and computers, they think I'm IBM!
If you think that's bad, just picture this,
try holding those brats, with their pants full of piss!
They pull on my nose, they grab at my beard,
And if I don't smile, the parents think I'm weird.
Flying through the air, dodging the trees,
Falling down chimneys, and skinning my knees.
I'm quitting this job, there is just no enjoyment,
I'll sit on my fat ass, and draw unemployment.
There's no Christmas this year, you now know the reason,
I've found me a blonde, I'm going SOUTH for the season!!
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Short Title: Dirty11
From: Stock84 (Stock84@nospam.gracanica.net)
Subject: eng: geek christmas
Newsgroups: bih.rec.humor
Date: 2003-12-23 09:49:09 PST
'Twas the Night Before Christmas
By Scott Small
'Twas the night before Christmas, as I clicked on my mouse,
Across a pile of old floppies, I had tried to degauss;
Windows kept hanging with a Blue Screen Of Death,
While I cursed out Bill Gates under my breath.
The missus slept, as did the kids and newborn,
So I took the time to surf for some porn.
I found a free site that contained many jpegs,
(So that's just exactly, how chickens can lay eggs!)
When out down the hall I heard a loud noise,
I jumped out of my chair and put back the boys.
I figured the wife must be up and about,
If caught again, she'd toss my ass out.
I laced up my robe and thought of a story
About why I'm up and how to say sorry.
I stuck out my head by the light of the john
(One of the kids must've left the light on)
I squint and I strain to see what is what
When what hove into view was a giant red butt.
The first thing I thought was to reach for a bat
(Wait a minute. A red suit, fur trim and he's fat!)
The Claus man is here with high-tech type gadgets
The latest geek toys that run all the gamuts.
New cell phones! New sound cards! New controllers and games!
For Xbox! For Gamecube! For Playstation and MAMEs!
Wireless Routers! And they're eleven G!
Not slow! Not slow! Not slow like B!
As dial-up was, before we all had high speed,
Time seemed to slow as I watched with my greed.
"All those wonderful toys" as the joker did say,
Where does he get them? Best Buy and Ebay?
And then, with a beeping, off went my pager,
(Some idiot at work with a dumb question, I'll wager)
As I fumbled to stop the beep-beeping sound,
Santa had stopped and now turned around.
It was unfortunate that he tripped the motion detector
Because the police would soon be dispatched to our sector
He dropped the toys to make quick his escape
And he flew 'cross the room like that dude in the cape
His ass -- How it rippled and flapped, I say truly
It's explained in a principle by a guy named Bernoulli.
Yes, he flew 'round the room just like he was Neo
While playing a song by Letters To Cleo
I silenced the alarm and he returned to the floor
I said I was sorry, but boy, was he sore!
He hitched up his belt and headed my way
But I managed to calm him with some Grand Marnier.
We laughed, we talked and he told me his troubles
About a lawsuit, an affair and a chimp named Bubbles.
He was falling down drunk. He walked with a sway.
I thought I had better take the keys to the sleigh.
I pulled out my cell phone and called for a cab
To take the jolly old elf back to his lab.
He spoke not a word, but threw up on my slippers.
By the smell, for breakfast, he must've had kippers.
That's about the time the policemen arrived,
So I went for some coffee to get old Santa revived.
In his current state and with no ID to display,
The cops had no choice, but to haul him away.
He gave me the finger as the cops drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT.
--
Best Regards,
Stock84, Stock84@nospam.gracanica.net
on 12/23/03
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Short Title: DisasterChristmas
Originally published in:
The Durham Herald-Sun
Sunday, December 24, 2000
Section E, page 2
'Twas the Night Before ...
by Billie Elliott of Durham
Twas the night before Christmas and all through our house
The rooms are a-scatter -- but nary a mouse.
There are ribbons and bows and plastic tape
And it is getting so late -- so late.
The tree is lopsided and the needles are dry.
If I weren't so busy I'd sit down and cry.
The tinsel is missing and we've lost the star.
I don't know where tie darn things are!
The toys are assembled but the batteries dead.
This dumb Santa has a hole in her head.
The turkey is frozen -- forgot to de-ice.
Manna from heaven right now would be nice.
My hair is frowsy -- I need a new 'do.
Expect my new outfit is wrinkled too.
Come morning and things won't look so bad.
We always say "Best Christmas we've had!"
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Short Title: Disease(Childhood)
From: Satch (satch@f2s.com)
Subject: Childhood Disease Christmas Special
Newsgroups: alt.pave.the.earth
Date: 2001-12-24 19:41:04 PST
'Twas The Night Before Christmas: Childhood Disease Version!
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,
But some childrens stockings were missing this year.
Children were nestled all snug in their beds,
Some parents cling to memories dancing in their heads;
These children all fought their battles so strong,
Why oh why God, did disease have to come along?
Whether Cancer, Leukemia, Brain Tumors or AIDS,
These children all fought for each precious day;
From needles to transplants to losing their hair,
These angels still found a smile to share.
Their memories live on...these precious little ones,
Disease has taken so many of our daughters and sons;
Children should not have to go through this fear...
Please oh please God... can you send us a cure?
Star after star after star they came...
Heavenly Lights displays each precious name.
Each angel a story, a family forever changed....
As we read each childs star...name after name...
Jordyn, and Michael, Benjamin, and Timmy...
There's Joseph, and Joshua, Ariel, and Jimmy;
Their stories all told, and memories held dear...
These children are spending Christmas in Heaven this year.
The Sky is a twinkling, their stars sure do shine,
So many hearts touched, especially mine;
A bundle of joy...missed so sadly will be,
Their memories will continue on...for all to see.
Their eyes how they twinkled, their smiles were so bright,
Just like their stars that now light up our night;
Shattered lives, futures changed, a puzzle incomplete,
The meaning of life...these parents now seek.
God went right to work, and spoke not a word,
These children are now...as free as a bird;
God brings comfort and strength and has plenty to share,
The burdens will be eased with His loving care.
God is caring and strong, and needed so much,
And they smile in God's presence...so graciously touched;
God filled each stocking with hope...faith...and love,
God blessed us all...and back to heaven He rose.
Please hold us all close Father...let us feel your love,
Take care of the children up in Heaven above;
Send each parents love to their angel in the sky,
Until we are reunited in Heaven...and can understand why.
Childhood disease is so present today,
We cant ignore it...we must find a way...
To cure these diseases too many to name,
Please pray for a cure...in Jesus's name.
Disease can happen anytime... anywhere..to anyone
We must not quit until the battles all won!
Lets make 2002 the year...
......for a better cure.
Better cures must be found please help the fight...
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"
Copyright © November 2000 Written by:
Laura/Heavenly Lights Childrens Memorial
--
Original source: http://heavenlylightspoetry.homestead.com/christmas.html
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Short Title: Disney
From: J.P. Morgan (fishmorgjp@yahoo.com)
Subject: The Night Before Disney Xmas
Newsgroups: alt.fan.furry
Date: 2002-12-26 09:12:37 PST
Here's a darn nice Christmas tale that appeared on
http://www.animationmeat.com yesterday:
--
'Twas the night before Christmas
as interpreted by Dave Brewster
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through LA
Not a creature was stirring, not even a PA
The pencils were stowed by the portfolio's with care,
In hopes that Walt Disney soon would be there;
The artists were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of great scenes danced in their heads;
A wonder of timing each scene with real snap,
A half decent job that just dropped in their lap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the steel bars and threw up the sash.
The moon shone brightly off the ABC signs glow
Giving a the lustre to the pavement below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But what looked like Walt Disney and something else queer,
Tied up executives, dressed really slick,
I knew in a moment that they must be a clique .
More rapid than eagles his prisoners came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and handed them blame;
"Now, Eisner! now, Jeffrey! now, Shumacher and Ball!
On, Lafaro ! on Ovitz! You all made it fall!
From the top of the hat! to the top of the wall!
Cheapquals are sickening I should fire you all !"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the prisoners flew,
With the weight of their guilt pushing them through.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little goof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney they all came with a bound.
He was dressed in a suit, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of execs he had flung on his back,
And he put them all down and then gave them a whack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His fine little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the stash on his lip was as white as the snow;
The stump of a cig he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a firm little belly,
He stared hard at Eisner who then turned to jelly.
He was angry about something that charming 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,
Beatings so violent my stomach would jerk,
Then laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney they rose;
He sprang to his limo, then gave out a shout,
He opened the door and then kicked them all out.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Let them build empires on another mans house,
this one was built on the back of a mouse"
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Short Title: DivorceeAndExWife
from http://www.spring-tree.com/christmas.html
Twas a Divorce's Night Before Christmas
'Twas the night after Christmas, when all through the trailer,
Not a creature was stirring, not even an old sailor.
The stockings were dirty and thrown in a heap,
And I hoped that some woman would arrive soon and be cheap.
My three boys had wrestled and slugged me in the head,
While visions of being grounded made them start to see red.
My mamma in her 'kerchief, and my dad, with his bad back,
Had just settled down for a light winter's snack.
When out on the doorstep, I heard my ex-wife's patter,
And I sprang from my recliner, to see if she'd gotten even fatter.
Away to the front window, I flew, breaking out in a rash,
Tore open the door, and she said, "I need a lot more cash!"
The moon's glow on the hood of her new Cadillac,
Made me wish she and I had never jumped in the sack.
When, what to my furious eyes should appear,
But a sleazy, bald guy holding a big bottle of beer.
With a little sly smile, and the face of a hick,
I knew in a moment it must be her new boyfriend, Rick!
More rapid than eagles his burps they sure came,
And I was sickened, and disgusted, as I said the man's name.
"Now, wait! Now, whoa! Now, Flo! Now, think!
"I can't give you more money, so don't put up a stink!
To ask for more money, you've really got gall!
Now, go away! Go away! Go away, y'all!"
As dry heaves that before severe nausea come,
When they fill up your insides and make you feel numb,
So, into my trailer, Flo and Rick zoomed,
And with a sense of foreboding, I knew I was doomed.
And then, in an instant, I saw the two of them kiss,
And I felt like a hit-man, who didn't want to miss.
As I stifled a cuss-word, and adjusted my underwear,
Flo parked her big butt in my mom's favorite blue chair.
She began to speak, while Rick kept guzzling his beer,
And I felt like a prisoner, whose death sentence was near.
A big hunk of fat, was hanging from Flo's gut,
And, I wondered how Rick could stand looking at such a slut.
Flo's eyes--how they squinted; pig-like without a doubt,
Her cheeks looked like elephant skin, her nose like a snout.
Her gigantic, red mouth opened up like a shark,
And her jagged teeth were ugly, as yellow as peed-on tree bark.
The butt of a cigarette she held tight in her lips,
And the smoke circled 'round her massive, hippopotamus hips.
Flo had a pudgy face and enormous rolls of blubber.
That flopped when she moved, and bounced like chunks of rubber.
She was overweight and smelly, a terribly gross ex-wife,
And I felt sick to my stomach, as I wished for the next life.
A wink of Flo's eye and a smile on her face,
Soon gave me to know, I wanted to be in a different place.
Flo spoke a few words, about needing more money,
And again I said, "No, way! You've already taken it all, honey!"
She got up to leave, dragging Rick by his collar,
And she gave me a wet kiss, before I could holler.
Flo waddled outside and jumped in her car,
And she and her man headed for the nearest bar.
But I heard Flo exclaim, as she drove off with the geek,
"If you don't give me more money,
I'll bring over my mother next week!"
Copyright © 1997, 1998 Alex Anderson
Submitted by: Teddy Slottow (edward@mit.edu)
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Short Title: DJNicholas(RaveMusic)
Subject: PLURy Christmas to all....
From: Gip@huh.edu (Gip)
Date: 1997/12/24
Message-ID: <34a17938.4002187@news.netusa1.net>
Newsgroups: uk.music.rave
The Set Before Christmas
or A Visit from DJ Nicholas
(apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)
'Twas the night before Christmas, and the party was phat,
All the groovers were jumping, no one was on crack;
The bassbins were blasting the fresh funky sounds,
In hopes DJ Nicholas soon would be 'round;
The tunes filled the warehouse with positive vibes,
While visions of glowsticks danced in our eyes;
My friends with their tablets, and I with a cap,
Had just settled down, way too couched to chat,
When beneath the black lights there arose such a beat,
I sprang from the rave sludge and onto my feet.
Away to the speakers to hear better the grooves,
Whipped out my earplugs and busted some moves.
The Technics had a plate on the slipmat so dope,
It rotated at +8 and filled me with hope,
When, what to my shade-wearing eyes should I see,
A DJ dropping tracks with squealing 303.
With a cut and a backspin, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it was DJ Nick.
More rapid than heartbeats his white labels came,
The kids whistled, and shouted, and all went insane;
"Now, JUNGLE! now, GOA! HOUSE and FUNKY BREAKS!
He gets the crowd pumping whatever it takes!
If the music's da shit then he'll play 'em all!
He keeps the floor shaking, we dance 'till we fall!"
Spotters gathered 'round to check his mad skills,
But ol' Nick has a sound that tickles and thrills,
Soon they couldn't help dancing to beats going down,
Faces plastered with grins, not the usual frowns.
And then, through the dry-ice, I heard a loud thump,
Nicholas was snoozing, his body a lump,
"Wake up, DJ Nick!," was the entire crowd's plea,
Nick's drink had been spiked with heavy GHB.
In his red and white tracksuit he so soundly slept,
The grumpy old ravers laughed and called him inept;
But his nose worked the faders, and he snored to the beat,
Ever the pro, Nick could mix in his sleep.
His eyelids -- they twitched! He was finally awake!
His pupils dilated as he dropped the next break!
This DJ, with goatee as bleached white as snow,
Had the crowd blown away with his kickin'-ass show;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And he filled up the bowl with prime bud, shake and leaf.
Then just as he'd gotten 3 tables to lock,
A low voice shook the room, "This party must stop!"
He was chubby and plump, a right scary old cop,
And it seemed that the evening might end with a flop;
But ol' Nick knew the score, he went over to talk,
And gave me to know I'd no reason to sulk;
Nick reached in his pocket and then with a flash,
Brought out his wallet and a big wad of cash.
The cop gave it back, said "If it's all the same,
I'd rather go off to Hawtin or Richard D. James"
He sprang to his decks, spun the requested tracks,
And when he was finished, disappeared with his wax.
But I heard him exclaim, as he hopped in his jet,
"PLURRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD SET!"
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Short Title: DorothyMailingList1
Subject: Night Before Christmas on list/ It's MHO too, Nick.
From: Judith Ludlum
Date: 1997/12/20
Message-ID: <3.0.3.32.19971220000852.007d63b0@mail.jps.net>
Newsgroups: bit.listserv.dorothyl
Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house not a creature
was posting, not even Danger mouse.
TBR piles were stacked by the sofa with care, in hopes that there would be
good reviews to share.
Writers were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of new mysteries
plotted through their heads.
Joyce in her tiera and Meg with her caps, just revved up for a long round
of line dancing at Chaps.
When on Dorothy L. there arose such a clatter, I clicked and clicked to see
what was the matter. Away to windows I flew in a flash to be sure the whole
thing wasn't about to crash.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear, but a miniture sleigh and eight
tiny caterpillers. With a little driver so lively and quick, I knew in a
moment it must be Ms. Polly, of great wit!
Fans shouted and called them by name. On Dale, Dianne, Kate and Carole.
Leslie, Bill, Fred Parnell, and the rest. To the top of this list and that
New York one too...
Write away, write away, write away, all!
Merry Christmas and the best,
Alvirah Meehan aka Judith
BTW- I agree with you Nick Danger, about it being mean to list a worst book
after the 10 best.
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Short Title: DorothyMailingList2
Subject: NOTHING RHYMES WITH DOROTHY
From: MS POLLY WHITNEY
Date: 1997/12/22
Message-ID: <199712230429.XAA18310@mime2.prodigy.com>
Newsgroups: bit.listserv.dorothyl
Comrades: My pockets are to let, my creditors all have
great cholesterol levels because I give them so much
aerobic exercise, and I'm living on yogurt and leaves
stolen from my neighbor's ficus tree, but I'm never so
poor that I'm out of words. From those words, I've made
a holiday gift for you all, whatever you celebrate or
avoid celebrating around this time of year. I'm sorry I
couldn't get you all new bicycles, but please remember:
IT'S THE BLOODY THOUGHT THAT COUNTS!
"YOU NEVER WRITE; YOU NEVER CALL"
or
"HOW THE GRINCH STOLE THE DIGEST"
'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the list
Not a subscriber was stirring
And nobody was pist.
The troublemakers were manacled
All snug in their beds,
While visions of sugarplums
Never entered their heads.
And while they were sleeping
A peace filled the land:
Because Santa had delivered:
All posts had been banned.
Not a post was a model,
Stuck firmly on topic:
No reviews, tours, questions on Christie:
The view was just blank, not even slightly myopic.
The digest had been rid
Of its horrible clatter
By immutable physics:
In each post there existed absolutely no matter.
Now a total vacuum
Is the cleverest place
Because nothing is there
Not time and not space.
And since that is the case
And there's no doubt about it,
The digest was empty --
A vacuum, you see, is defined as "without it."
By the time the hiatus is over
And we come back to old Dorothy
Perhaps the New Year will bring us
Some posts that won't bore thee.
Until we meet again
On the other side of Janus's doors,
We'll be only too aware that a vacuum
Is what nature truly abhors.
So I'll betcha five bucks
That we'll be feisty and bright
And flame the first person who says
"And to all a good night!"
Submitted by Polly Whitney, Santa's Little Gnat
President V
Richard M. Pillar ~########################
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Matthew Monroe in Richland, WA
Last Modified January 7, 2007