Canonical List of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas Variations
Version 2007.1
Part 18 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: Football(OhioState)
From: Chris Fazio (cfazio@erols.com)
Subject: Re: 'Twas the Night Before Tempe........
Newsgroups: alt.sports.college.ohio-state.football
Date: 2002-12-14 11:03:06 PST
"Dr. DOS" wrote in message
news:Tm6K9.6574$Eu4.3630279@twister.columbus.rr.com...
'Twas the Night Before Tempe........
All thru the season, the critics said "No"
"The Buckeyes will never go 13 and 0"
"Texas Tech was a joke, San Jose's program was spent.
Who cares if you stomped out those flashes from Kent."
But the fans did not fear, we just started to grin.
As the Buckeyes got win after win after win.
But the critics had doubt, they still said "No way"
but their voices grew weak when our boys came to play.
So Krenzel stepped up, and Gamble got set;
our trust was in Tressel, our hearts ran with Clarett.
We shut up Paterno, we silenced Purdue
Michigan bled scarlet and grey, as we knocked out their
Blue.
The critics are silenced, Columbus will shout,
"Throw on your Buckeyes, Erase all your doubt"
13 have been downed, only 1 more to go.
And Tempe will scream O...H...I...O!
GO BUCKS !!!!!!!!
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Short Title: Football(PackersVsVikings)
Subject: Twas the 1st Day of December and all throughout the dome............
From: hads@usinternet.com
Date: 1997/12/02
Message-ID: <348476ee.0@news.usinternet.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sports.football.pro.gb-packers
The disgust in Viking Country starts to settle in!!!
Twas the first night in December
And all throughout the Dome
Purple blood was splattered
In the place the Vikes call "home"
The Vikings could do nothing right
The Packers would not yield
The Vikes took a good ol' whoopin'
On their own home field
By the end of quarter number 3
The Viking fans went home
Leaving 40,000 empty seats
And 20,000 cheeseheads made of foam
Johnson threw like Edward Scissorhands
We were in for a long night
Without a healthy quarterback
We would lose this fight
Levens would run freely
Favre would pass to Brooks
They came in here and beat our butts
Those darn Wisconsin crooks
So now the Vikes are on the road
To Frisco they will go
A fourth sraight loss is coming
This we surely know
If the Vikes do make the playoffs
What point will there be?
Another first round exit
Just check their history
The ownership is awful
The coaches have no clue
Next year they'll play in Birmingham
For redneck fans, not you!
by Alex Smith
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Short Title: Football(PittsburghSteelers)
Subject: 'twas the night before New England
From: Sauron
Date: 1997/12/28
Message-ID: <34A6C89A.F2255DCF@bellsouth.net>
Newsgroups: alt.sports.football.pro.pitt-steelers
...just a little something to get us in the spirit...
http://personal.bna.bellsouth.net/~sauron36/twas.html
Sauron
'Twas the night before New England
and all through the house
not a creature was stirring
especially the spouse
The Towels were all hung
by the TV with care
The Big Game was coming
an opportunity rare
The fans were all snuggled
down deep in their beds
with visions of Superbowls
alive in their heads
I sat at my PC
unable to sleep
half dreaming of Kordell
to Yancy - GO DEEP
When up on the roof
there came such a clatter
it sounded like Cowher
beginning his chatter
"On Gildon, On Kirkland
On Perry, On Steed
Let's win one for Pittsburgh
We'll make that our creed"
"Let's go Mr. Lake
it's QB's you seek
with fire in your eye
knock him into next week"
"On Dawson, On Jackson
On Thigpen, On Bruener
Hey, let's ride the Bus
we'll get there much sooner"
"OK Kordell Stewart
it's your day in the sun
let's take to the air
and set up the run"
I stood there and listened
still not quite believing
then things quieted down
and I figured "they're leaving"
I don't understand
how they got on my roof
didn't actually see them
I offer no proof
I know it sounds crazy
darn looney to some
but as he faded away
I heard "One For The Thumb..."
Respectfully submitted by Glenn Fulghum - aka Sauron - December 28, 1997
GO STEELERS!!!
Copyright © 1997 Glenn Fulghum
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Short Title: Football(Raiders)
From: T-Bone (boneski@newsguy.com)
Subject: Re: Football Xmas
Newsgroups: newsguy.general
Date: 2002-12-24 22:36:04 PST
Judith,
here's one a friend of mine sent me after I sent your's out. This one
was written before the Raiders VS Druncos game..
'Twas the morning of game day and all through the land
the fans were all stirring, with their tickets in hand.
A quick cup of coffee, then each Jill and Jack
Get dressed in their very best silver and black.
Then out to the car, or the truck or the van
to pack for their tailgates as much as they can.
The stickers are placed in the windows with care
And the Raider flags fly in the crisp autumn air.
The excitement is mounting as their engines they start;
it's easy to see that these fans have such heart.
Then out on the highway there arose such a clatter
I ran from my house to see what was the matter.
The morning sun shone with a soft golden glow
on car after car traveling below.
Fans from the east and fans from the west
heading to Oakland to watch football's best.
One fan in particular went driving by.
A mean looking dude with a patch on his eye.
His face was all blackened, as it scattered with soot
and he was dressed all in black from his head to his foot.
His eyes were determined, his gaze it was fierce.
And that's when I noticed his ear had a pierce.
Even his cap had a Raiders design,
but he nodded and smiled as his eyes met mine.
So I gave him a thumbs up then he honked his horn
and I heard his voice clearly that bright early morn:
"On Gannon, on Woodson, on Tim and on Garner;
On Romo, On Jano, On Rice and on Porter."
Then laying his finger to the side of his nose
he stepped on the gas with the tip of his toes!
And I heard him exclaim as he drove fast away
"Season's beatings to the Broncos will be delivered today!"
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Short Title: Football(SEC_Conference)
Date: 11/17/2000
Author: toolman
Newsgroup: alt.sports.college.sec.tennessee
'Twas the night before Auburn
And all thru the newsgroups
Curls, Ben, Cpt, Stew, Leo
were rallying up the Bummer troops.
High hopes abounded as
they started out number 3
They lost to UCLA, as well
as heated rival Tennessee.
Their spirits are down.
They are eating crow
at least they did one thing right
they got rid of Coach Dumbose.
Now it's time for Aubutt.
Will it be their fate
to lose another SEC game
and finish out at 3-8?
Prolly so. TSIO.
They are wishing for a good leader
and forking out the cash
trying to entice Bowden, Davis, or Beamer.
But, alas, it is not meant to be
for Bummer to have a coach who knows
how to build a defensive front
or recruit a QB who accurately throws.
So, after a loss to Bo Jackson U.,
they will settle down for a long winters nap.
Then next spring it will all start again,
Phat Phil, voluntutor, and all that monkey crap.
Next season will then be upon us
and Bummer will be making progress.
But they will still be looking up
from the bottom of the SEC west.
ROTRO
and play dead.
(oh don't have to play, huh?)
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Short Title: Football(SF-49ers)
From: Ford Prefect (ford@PaulBrownMemorialFund.org)
Subject: asfpsf-49ers Christmas Flashbacks 1994
Newsgroups: alt.sports.football.pro.sf-49ers
Date: 2002-12-24 12:42:04 PST
David Roach (davero@sr.hp.com) wrote in
message:<3d8a6t$je6@canyon.sr.hp.com>
Season's Bleatings...
'Twas the month before Christmas, when all through the noise
Not a team was as stirring, not even the 'Boys.
The owners marked off their calandars with care
In hopes that Saint Deion soon would be theirs.
The coaches were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of Superbowls danced in their heads.
And Jim on his crutches, and Joe in his cap,
Had just settled down for an long winter's nap.
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the VCR I flew with a bound,
Turned on 'record', and cranked up the sound.
The lights on the grass of the new-sodded 'Stick,
Gave a luster of midday to crowds awaiting the kick.
When what to my wandering eyes should appear,
The #1 football team and the talk of the year,
With a young running back so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Saint Rick.
Their leader a QB who'd mastered the game,
More rapid than eagles his cohorts they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Watters! Now Carter! Now Rice and now Taylor!
On Norton! On Jackson! On Plummer and blitz 'em!
To the top of the West, to the top of the league!
Now bash away! Slash away! Thrash away, all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So over opponents these 'Niners they flew
With a slate full of records and a few blowouts, too.
And then in a twinkling I heard on the tube
Twas Madden and Summerall trying to get in the groove.
As I went to the couch and was turning around,
To the huddle Steve Young came with a bound.
He was dressed all in red from his foot to his head,
And his clothes were from 1955 it is said.
A number eight he had stuck to his back,
And he looked like a lawyer whose firm's in the black.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
And hit all the wide-outs; then turned with a jerk,
And playing his fake alongside of Sir Brent,
And giving a nod up the alley he went.
He sprang to his feet, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard them exclaim ere they drove out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
-Clement "Crunchtime" Moore
(Original version before selling out to the toy companies)
--
"My doctor says that I have a malformed public duty gland
and a natural deficiency in moral fibre and that I'm therefore
excused from saving universes."
Ford Prefect
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Short Title: Football(StBowden1)
Subject: Re: Ode to St. Bobby
From: Noles
Date: 1997/11/25
Message-ID: <65g8ca$8in@mtinsc03.worldnet.att.net>
Newsgroups: alt.sports.football.college.fsu-seminoles
KILLER GATOR ATTACK!:
"A VISIT FROM ST. BOWDEN"
By Killer Gator Attack! November 1997
32-29 GATORS WIN! 32-29 GATORS WIN!
----------------------------------------------------
'Twas the 22nd of November, up in Gainesville
The whole Swamp was roaring, no one could sit still!;
The seminoles came in all pompous and sassy
Planning to take a title back to old Tallacrappy;
Their taunting banners were hung with great care
Certain that St. Bowden would answer their prayer;
Chanting and chopping, wearing yellows and reds
While visions of national titles danced in their heads;
With Steve in his visor, and Bobby in his cap
Gators and noles hunkered down for a furious scrap;
When up from the Gators there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter!;
My eyes glued to the field, I shed a brief tear
and a nole sitting near me threw up in his beer;
For what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a BIG PLAY Gator offense...and seminole FEAR!;
With our Coach in his visor, on the attack
I knew in a moment, OUR OFFENSE WAS BACK!
More rapid than eagles, QB's swapped in the game
He coached and he shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Brindise! Now, Johnson! Now Brindise!" he schemed
"To Quezzie! To McGriff! To Taylor and Karim!"
The noles title hopes vanished, I seem to recall
Began to dash away, dash away, dash away all!
A strong Gator O-line, finding its niche
Collins! Blackshear! Kalich, Piller, and Ritch!
Fred Taylor was awesome, running swift, running hard
Scorched the noles for four touchdowns, one for 61 yards!
The Gator Defense was fierce, applying great pressure
Delivering sacks by George! Rutledge and Chester!
The secondary covered tough, causing nole hopes to drown
Huge plays by Weary, George, Williams and Brown!
D-line and backers played mighty, closing up holes
Goal line stands for the ages, forcing field goals;
With a big run late, the noles hoped to embarrass
But No Sir, we STOPPED 'em, THANK YOU MIKE HARRIS!
Noles led with two minutes, thought they'd make us eat crow
Till Dougie hit Quezzie on a HUGE Curl-and-Go!
Fred Taylor's last run, and the nole's season of promise
Was chomped into pieces, and picked off by Duane Thomas!
St. Bowden was crushed, and his big round belly
Shook when he cried, like a bowl full of jelly.
As the noles fled the Swamp, it was SOOO sweet to hear
All of them crying: "Just wait 'til next year!"
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Short Title: Football(StBowden2)
Forum: alt.sports.football.college.fsu-seminoles
Subject: Twas the Night Before
Date: 12/09/1999
Author: PcolaPhil
Twas the night before the "big day", when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse:
The pendants were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Bowden soon would be there:
The fans were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of the Sugar Bowl danced in their heads;
And ma in her Noles shirt, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long New Years nap,
When out in the town there arose such a clatter,
I went from my house to see what was the matter.
Away to the gridiron I flew with great haste,
Tore open the doors and threw up the gates.
The lights from the top of the New Orleans dome
Gave the luster to the field that was far from home.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a whole tribe of warriors dressed up in their gear.
With a southern ol' coach, so lively and slick,
I knew in a moment that this was no trick.
More rapid than eagles his players they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
Now WEINKE now OUTZEN now BOLDEN and MINOR
On KENDRA on WARRICK on CHANEY and MINNIS.
From the top of the stands, regardless of polls,
"This is the BIG game, go get them Noles".
It's down to two teams on this championship night
The Hokies and Noles have one last big fight.
So on to the Superdome the teams they did fly,
With the book full of tricks that St. Bobby would try.
Bobby was dressed all in garnet, from his head to his toe,
And circling his head was a great golden glow;
A bundle of plays he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a gambler just opening his sack.
His eyes they did twinkled! His smile just as merry!
Peter Warrick was his man, and boy he could carry.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And you could tell it was time to get on with the show.
A secret play book was held tight in his hand,
Every one in the nation knew this coach was "THE MAN";
He had a broad face and was a little round bugger,
And shook when he laughed like a BOWLful of SUGAR.
He was cheerful and ready, a right jolly old elf,
And I cheered when I saw him, and not to myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon let me know I had nothing to dread.
He said what he needed, and gathered his crew,
Twelve wins in a row was what he would do.
The Noles took the field with a big swell of pride,
The Hokies were history, there was no where to hide.
As he sprang to his feet, to his team gave a holler,
He saw them standing just a little bit taller.
"We've beaten them all, we've got the job done",
It's now undisputed, WE ARE # 1 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
GO NOLES!!!
Phil
"In beer there is strength. In wine there is wisdom. In water
there is bacteria." --German Proverb
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Short Title: Football(Tennessee)
From: toolman (toolman@xtn.net)
Subject: Prediction
Newsgroups: alt.sports.college.sec.tennessee
Date: 2001-12-22 12:46:37 PST
'Twas the night before Christmas
And all thru the countryside
All eyes were looking upward for
The man dressed in orange and white.
Suddenly, all tranquility was shattered
As a confrontation took place in the sky.
It appeared to be a pack of wolverines
Bearing down on the man in orange and white.
They started to line up in a 3 point stance,
These warriors clad in yellow and blue.
"We have a bigger stadium", said the leader Carr,
"More tradition than you, too."
The man dressed in orange and white
All calm and showing no fear
Announced, "Who will step up and defeat the
Mighty wolverines? Who wants to Volunteer"?
Without hesitation, and not a moment too soon
A group of young brave soldiers stepped forth.
"I will," they all replied at once, "We will
Defeat the legion of warriors from the north!"
The battle ensued. Not a face was without blood.
When it was finished and done
There could be no question of doubt
Of who had so dominantly won.
Because in the middle of the field
Where this historic moment started,
There stood a flag with a big orange T
The sanctity of the south it guarded.
The mighty Wolverines bowed their head in defeat.
They had never encountered such a force before.
Standing tall and proud were the brave Volunteers
For they had beat all the odds and won the Citrus war.
Their fearless leader had gained their respect,
A new name they started to murmur.
Once known as the man in orange and white
Is now known as Coach Philip Fulmer.
GO BIG ORANGE AND BEAT THE WOLVERINES!!!!!
VOLS 45
'RINES 13
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Short Title: Football(TexasA&M)
From: Donna (donnaholman@netscape.net)
Subject: One for you Texans out there.
Date: 2002-12-18 17:51:09 PST
Subject: The FRAN Christmas Story
This was in the Houston Paper
TWAS the week before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a chat line was stirring, to call R.C. Slocum a louse;
The helmets were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Coach Franchione soon would be there;
The Aggies were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of BCS bowls danced in their heads;
And Robert Gates in his kerchief and Reveille in his cap,
Had just settled down for an offseason nap,
When out on the quad there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew in a flash,
Tore open the shutters and waved wads of cash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of Corpsmen's boots to objects below,
When, what to those wondering eyes should appear,
But a Mercedes SL pulled by eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver so lively and grand,
They knew in a moment it must be Coach Fran.
More rapid than scatbacks his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name;
"Now, Shifty! Now, Sneaky! Now Tricky and Sly!
On Fraud! On Deceit! On Hustle and Fly!
"To the top of Kyle Field! To the top of the wall!
This is the new place we'll take our football!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the athletic dorm the coursers they flew,
With a trunk filled with millions and Franchione, too.
And then, in a twinkling, Gates heard on the roof,
The celebrating and dancing of one so aloof.
As he drew in his head and was turning around,
Down the chimney Coach Fran came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, fancy sable pajamas,
The tab they were bought on, surely Alabama's;
A bundle of promises he had flung on his back,
And looked like a used car salesman opening his sack.
His face -- how it shined! His eyes bright as rainbows!
The same look he had given the Tide, Frogs and Lobos.
A droll little act, to prop up programs so saggy,
He pulled out a 3x5 card and read: "Gig 'em, Aggies!"
With the gold filigree pen he held tight in his teeth,
He found the $1.7 million a year and signed underneath.
He had a warm face and a round little belly,
That will make him such a hit with his show on the telly.
He was confident and cheery, a right jolly old elf,
So endearing and obsequious, so full of himself.
One wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Gave Mack Brown and UT something to dread;
He'll land the blue chips, the right kind of freshmen,
As long as A&M fills his account in the Caymans.
He spoke the right words and went straight to his work,
Riding in a stretch limo, another nice perk.
What of those players, kids left behind?
Where? Who? What? Oh, never mind.
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his Mercedes, to his team gave a whistle,
It was off to recruiting like a heat-seeking missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Hullabaloo caneck caneck! 'Til I get Notre Dame to bite."
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Short Title: Football(Vikings1)
From: Just Me (not1096@yahoo.com)
Subject: Twas the night before Christmas
Newsgroups: alt.sports.football.mn-vikings
Date: 2003-12-23 12:19:52 PST
Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the Dome
All the Viking fans were wishing
For a playoff game at home
With Pepper at the helm
and the 'steal of the draft'
The doubters asked if we'll win
Randy Moss just laughed
Chicago was only a fluke
In case you hadn't heard
We *will* be in post-season
Our victory is assured.
We won't take 'zona lightly
Make no mistake
This game will reveal
Whether we're real or fake.
We'll travel to 'zona and win
To enter the post-season fight
Merry Christmas to all
And to all, good night!
(Don't worry - I won't quit my day job - LOL)
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Short Title: Football(Vikings2)
Newsgroups: alt.sports.football.mn-vikings
From: "Daniel L. Snyder "
Date: Fri, 24 Dec 2004 09:21:06 -0600
Subject: Mossmas Caroles
'Twas the night before Mossmas, when all through the house,
Not a Packer was stirring, as timid as a mouse.
The Ship was parked by the entrance with care,
In hopes that St. Daunte soon would be there.
The cheerleaders were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of touchdowns danced in their heads.
Mike Tice with his pencil, and Red in his cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.
When out on the Field Turf there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my lounge chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the Plasma I flew like a flash,
Nearly spilling my beer, tripping on the trash.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and Dontarrious reindeer.
With a Monstrous driver, so lively and adep¹,
That I knew right away, that it must be St. Pepp.
More rapid than iggles his tailbacks they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now Bryant, now Claiborne, now Corey, now Dixon,
On Mewelde, Onterrio, on Randy, and Mixon".
To the top of the dome, near Nicollet mall,
Dash away, dash away, dash away all.
So up to the cheapseats the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of joys, and St. Culpepper too.
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
All the clattering noise of the linemen on hoof.
All bundled in purple from his head to his foot,
His clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
I drew in my head and was turning around,
When down the goalposts he came with a bound.
A bag full of footballs he had slung on his back,
And he looked like a Lumberjack opening his pack.
His sweat, how it twinkled,
His muscles, how scarry.
His thighs sinewy hoses
His eyes red as cherry,
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
No beard on this chin, yet a grin white as the snow.
The stump of a Packer he held tight in his teeth,
The smoke went around his head like a wreath.
Oh, he was so jolly and awesome, a right jolly young elf,
And I laughed when I saw him,
In spite of myself.
He had a round face, and a six-pack for belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Filled all of Wisconsin with nothing but dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
He tossed all the receivers; a deft touchdown jerk
And rolling his arms in front of his nose,
Giving the crowd a nod, up the goal posts he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like ref and his whistle.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"Merry Mossmas to all, and to all good night."
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Short Title: Football(Washington)
From: John Renick
Date: 2004-04-19
'Twas the night before Washington, when all through this board,
Mililani wasn't posting, nor a guy name Tibor.
The flamers were humbled by some posts from Paul,
while banning ObjectiveCane was welcomed by all.
CKYBuckeye was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of Quad Script Ohio danced in his head,
And Susan in her 'kerchief, and DieHard in his cap,
Were about to click Shut Down before taking a nap.
When out on the Internet there arose such a clatter,
We halted our log off to see what was the matter.
Away to BuckNuts we flew like Chris Gamble,
Clicked on the last post, our rooms in a shamble.
I prayed as the window came up like a flash,
Swore softly as I read, for it made me gasp.
The red letters on the screen, with a background of gray,
Gave the luster of Game-Day to the menu that day.
When, what to my bleary eyes should appear,
"Suspension games announcement day is here."
With a little old writer, but strong as a tiger,
I knew in a moment is must be A. Geiger.
More rapid than reporters his coaches they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name;
"Now Tressel! now, Conley, now Daniels and Johnson!
On, Fickell! On, Spencer! on Tucker and Bollman!
To the top of the Big Ten! to the top of the poll!
Now stand aside! stand aside! stand aside all!"
As wild rumors before Hurricane fans fly,
When they meet with the truth, claim it's a lie;
So up on the screen, rumors were shot down,
Starting of course with the New York Times clown.
"This is not even relevant, Maurice did nothing wrong.
More stories like this crud, and he won't be there long."
"As I drew up my response to the NCAAs,
Headlines say 'Mo Suspended Six Saturdays'
"I told them on Friday, how this all would work!
Who wrote that headline is the world's biggest jerk!"
A bundle of press releases he had flung on his back,
And he looked like Will Smith after making a sack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his head was not hairy!
His cheeks were like roses, 'cause he just drank some sherry!
"The car that was borrowed and robbed by a thief
is the incident you read about with utter disbelief.
Again this is not relevant. Maurice committed no crime.
He was the victim, of media slander and slime."
At this point, there was a link to a web page,
but the only response was my utter rage.
I clicked it, I typed it, I searched it, no luck,
I hit the Reply button to tell him it sucked.
But I saw his response, as he signed off that night,
"For the rest of the announcement, join our premium site."
--Posted by John Renick on the Ohio State fans board at Bucknuts.com August 27th, 2003
during the Maurice Clarett suspension just before the Washington-Ohio State football game.
Strange names refer to various handles of posters on the fan board.
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Short Title: FootballRoseBowl
Subject: Twas the Night Before the Rose Bowl (fwd)
From: tabe@dip.eecs.umich.edu (Theodore Tabe)
Date: 1997/12/14
Message-ID: <66v8l0$go9$1@news.eecs.umich.edu>
Newsgroups: umich.sports
By M. Jayne Kelly
Adapted from Twas the Night Before Christmas
By Clement Clarke Moore
Twas the night before Rose Bowl, and all through the state,
Not a creature was sleeping; the fans were up late.
The car flags were hung on the windows with care,
And "Go Blue" banners flew everywhere.
The children were giggling all tucked in their beds,
While visions of roses danced in their heads.
And Mamma in her maize, and I in my blue,
Were busy in the kitchen, we had so much to do.
When all of a sudden, I heard such a clatter,
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.
I ran to the window and opened the sash,
And saw thousands of people in a 50-yard dash.
They were fans-all decked out in their blue and their maize,
It was some sort of Rose Bowl pre-game craze.
In the front of the crowd was a merry old man,
And I knew in a moment, he was one special fan.
The crowd came to a halt and they all gathered round,
The leader in front with a belly so round.
His proud twinkling eyes showed a hint of a tear
As he guided the crowd in a Wolverine cheer.
"Now Woodson! Now Griese!
Now Howard, Mayes and Vinson!
On Marcus! On Tuman!
On Dhani and Jansen!
To the end of the field, just keep moving that ball!
Now push away! Push away!
Push away all!"
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old guy,
And I laughed when I saw him, then I let out a sigh.
A wink in his eye and the twist of his head,
Assured me that he knew we had nothing to dread.
Then he spoke not a word, as he passed through the crowd,
Giving blue and gold trinkets to the fans so proud.
And tucked deep in his sack, where no one could see,
Was a special gift for Chuck, the Heisman Trophy.
His cheeks were the color of a victory rose,
As he placed his finger aside his cherry red nose.
Then he raised his other hand and he looked toward the West,
And he shouted to our team,
"You're the Victors and the BEST"
--
Theodore Tabe
University of Michigan
3220 EECS Building
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
EMAIL: tabe@umich.edu
WEB PAGE: http://www.eecs.umich.edu/~tabe
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Short Title: FortCollinsNaziMoms
From: WiNK (elvistcb13@yahoojunk.com)
Subject: OT: Ode to the Nazi Moms of Fort Collins
Newsgroups: rec.sport.football.college
Date: 2002-12-17 13:28:52 PST
After trying to locate a few miniature candy canes in our fair
city...unsuccessfully.....I was inspired to write the following, in honor of
all the perfect mothers that live in Fort Collins. Things are sold out
because Fort Collins is full of greedy hording housewife biatches that buy
the hell out of everything early.......Nazi Moms, if you will. Which is why
you need to buy your daughter's Christmas dress in freakin' OCTOBER if you
want to get one. Thanks for letting me vent....I feel much better.
Peach
Twas 8 days before Christmas, and all through Fort Fun...
Mini Candy Canes were sold out...that's right....every one.
The Nazi Moms of suburbia, decked out in J. Crew....
had raided all the grocery stores, and yes, Walmart, too......
"We must buy *all* things to make Christmas bright......
like gingerbread fixin's, and every dress in sight."
Unfortunately, the rest of us with full-time jobs
should have bought things in October to beat out these mobs.
"Come Buffy, come Steffie, come Erica and Sue....
let's have a Christmas brunch, and a craft project, too!
What fun for the kiddies! We're the trendiest lot.....
Make sure shelves are empty for the working class rot."
I heard them giggle softly, as SUV's were packed....
"Big sale starts tomorrow!!!!! Goodbye! We'll be back!"
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Short Title: Forum
From: black-ice (black-ice@bellsouth.net)
Subject: Oh come all ye enrollees
Newsgroups: alt.fan.landmark
Date: 2002-12-24 10:28:07 PST
REPOST FROM XMAS Past:
Message-ID: <39DBEF7B.CA0B60BF@swbell.net>
From: Linda
Newsgroups: alt.fan.landmark
Subject: Re: predictable posting
Date: Wed, 04 Oct 2000 22:03:23 -0500
Christmas Carol Parodies
from 1998
Twas the night before Forum graduation and all through the hotel
The expressions on the volunteers were grim and quite fell
The name tags were all lined up on the tables with care
Intending the graduates would all soon be there
The graduates were on their way with dreams of incomes higher than the skies
Visions of endless possibilities danced before their eyes
And I in my zoot suit with my quips and my banter
had just arrived on my horse pacing at a quick, steady canter
When out of the lobby there arose the cry that I failed the tests
As the room manager confronted me as to why I was without any guests
Away to my horse I flew like a flash
And down to the bus station I made with a dash
The moon on the face of the wino in the snow
caught my eye before entering; he said his name was Joe
when to my wandering eye did appear
his bottles of Thunderbird, Ripple and beer
He burped and he belched; he scratched and he sniffed
I invited Joe to come back with me although I choked now and then on the B.O. that I whiffed
Joe was so moved by my speech that he could barely take a slug
but he agreed to accompany me as I promised him a jug
I overlooked his untransformed habits while speaking to his inherent charm
because the Forum registrars wouldn¹t care as long as his body was warm
More rapid than a carrier pigeon old Joe and I took route
and made it back to graduation and just in time to boot
The Forum Leader, so lively and so quick,
bounded up onto the stage, while the smell of Joe made those nearby quite sick
The Leader whistled and shouted and called the registrars by name:
Now Billy! Now Buffy! Now Paula and Prissy!
On Freddie! On Ginger! On Danzig and Sissy!
To the back of the room! And line up against the wall!
Now enroll away! Enroll away! Enroll away one and all!
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Short Title: French
from http://www.geocities.com/Paris/LeftBank/3852/twas.html
'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE
I hope that you enjoy this version of 'Twas The Night Before Christmas
which I composed for teachers and students of French. Enjoy!
'Twas the night before Christmas dans la classe de langues vivantes
There was noone reciting "la plume de ma tante"!
No students were present, les portes étaient fermées,
The corridors were empty, pas de visages fatigués.
The chalk lay unused et le rétroprojecteur
In a corner rested quietly, aucun bruit de moteur!
For school was now out, les études terminées.
Christmas is coming, deux semaines de liberté!
The French teachers were home et les élèves aussi
Each one of them sleeping dans son petit lit.
Of what were they dreaming? Laissez-moi vous le dire
But you must make a promise de ne pas trop rire!
The teachers were dreaming que les élèves pourraient
Without too much coaxing à la bonne page arriver!
They dreamt oft that leurs élèves savaient conjuguer
Their irregular verbs sans difficulté.
That they knew avoir/être, cela leur a bien plu.
And they all got their circonflexe on j'ai dû!
That the students avaient tous fait leurs devoirs
And their answers were correctes au tableau noir.
The teachers much enjoyed ce paradis terrestre
And hoped that it would last pour le reste du trimestre!
The students were asleep les têtes sur l'oreiller
With thoughts of subjonctif ils ne voulaient pas se réveiller!
They had seen enough of that old voix passive
Had endured many lessons avec faire causative!
Mrs. Vandertramp is great, mais on veut pas que je mente
We sometimes forget ce que les lettres représentent!
I've filled in my verb charts, ils sont dans mon cahier.
By doing it your way, je ne vais pas oublier!
Don't think we're complaining, on a besoin de repos.
We adore your French class et avec ces mots
We thank all of you de nous avoir enseigné
How important it is d'apprendre le français.
By: Pete Jones
Teacher in Whitby, Ontario, Canada
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Short Title: Freud
From: "Frasier@ThePentagon.com" "Frasier" 19-DEC-1996 18:29:46.39
Subj: A Visit from St. Sigmund
"A Visit from St. Sigmund" by X.J. Kennedy
T'was the night before Christmas, when all through each kid
Not an Ego was stirring, not even an Id.
The hangups were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Sigmund Freud soon would be there.
The children in scream class had knocked off their screams,
Letting Jungian archetypes dance through their dreams,
And Mamma with her bra off and I on her lap
Had just snuggled down when a vast thunderclap
Boomed up from my unconcious arose such a clatter
As Baptist John's teeth made on Salome's platter.
Away from my darling I flew like a flash,
Tore straight to the bathroom and threw up, and -- smash!
Through the windowpane hurtled and bounced on the floor
A big brick -- holy smoke, it was hard to ignore.
As I heard further thunderclaps --lo and behold--
Came a little psychiatrist eighty years old.
He drove a wheeled couch pulled by five fat psychoses
And the gleam in his eye might induce a hypnosis.
Like subliminal meanings his coursers they came
And, consulting his notebook, he called them by name:
"Now Schizo, now Fetish, now Fear of Castration!
On Paranoia! on Penis-fixation!
Ach, yes, that big brick through your glass I should mention:
Just a simple device to compel your attention.
You need, boy, to be in an analyst's power:
You talk, I take notes -- fifty schillings an hour."
A bag full of symbols he'd slung on his back;
He looked smug as a junk-peddler laden with smack
Or a shrewd politician soliciting votes
And his chinbeard was stiff as a starched billygoat's.
Then laying one finger aside of his nose,
He chotled, "What means this? Mein Gott, I suppose
There's a meaning in fingers, in candles, und wicks,
In mouseholes und doughnut holes, steeples und sticks.
You see, it's the imminent prospect of sex
That makes all us humans run 'round till we're wrecks,
Und each innocent infant since people began
Wants to bed with his momma und kill his old man;
So never you fear that you're sick as a swine --
Your hangups are every sane person's und mine.
Even Hamlet was hot for his mom -- there's the rub;
Even Oedipus Clubfoot was one of the club.
Hmmm, that's humor unconcious." He gave me rib pokes
And for almost two hours explained phallic jokes.
Then he sprang to his couch, to his crew gave a nod,
And away they all flew like the concept of God.
In the worst of my dreams I can hear him shout still,
"Merry Christmas to all! In the mail comes my bill."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
Dr. Frasier Crane's Institute of Relationshipology
http://www.geocities.com/broadway/2945
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Short Title: FuelShortage
Date: Fri, 12 Dec 1997 07:58:11 -0500
From: Mary J O'Connor
Subject: Truckin Santa - 1973
A TRUCKIN CHRISTMAS STORY
(Written by my husband Bob O'Connor in 1973 at our truck repair shop
during the Arab Oil Crisis)
Twas the night before Christmas,
and although it was Yule,
Not an engine was running,
Cause we couldn't get fuel.
We couldn't get parts
So we just quit fixin,
And blamed all our troubles,
on someone named Nixon.
My wrenches were placed,
In their box by the wall,
With hopes that I'd get,
An expensive road call,
When what to my wondering
eyes did appear,
But a fat-man in red,
With a break-down near here.
He was cubby and plump,
A right jolly old elf,
But I knew that I'd shaft him,
In spite of myself.
He spoke of a sleigh,
With an eight reindeer mill,
So I pegged him a drunkard,
Who'd drank all his fill.
Now I've spent lots of money
For specialized tools,
So believe me when I say,
I'm nobodys fool
But please, if you can,
Tell me how in the hell,
To charge plugs in a reindeer,
Or adjust a sleigh-bell,
For years I've mechaniced,
So heed what I say,
And don't mess with the fat-man,
His reindeer, or sleigh.
Diesel
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Short Title: GameClassicArcade
From: Beepers (hughest99@hotmail.com)
Subject: Christas Classic with Arcade Twist
Newsgroups: rec.games.video.arcade.collecting
Date: 2002-12-23 10:14:53 PST
Twas the night before Christmas and throughout the basement of my house
not a video game was played, not even our Joust.
The cabinets were lined up against the wall by the stair
In hope that someone would want to play and be there.
The kids were all upstairs, X-boxing and Game Cubing
The Classics were abandoned; No one played the Toobin'.
When coming down the staircase I heard such a noise
It was Santa himself, but he carried no toys
Instead a sack full of silver and it made a loud jingle
Both tokens and quarters; a prepared ole Kris Kringle.
Then he spoke with that deep voice; Said let me explain
Then his eyes were a glisten and he called them by name
Now Tempest, then Robotron, then DK and Space Ace.
Onto Tron, and then Pac Man, Oh my, Computer Space!
From the first by the door to the last by the wall
He dropped plenty of quarters and played them one and all.
I couldn't believe just how well he played
or that Santa himself was in my arcade.
Then quickly as he came he did disappear
Ran off to the rooftop, his sleigh and reindeer.
As he flew off into the night I heard him exclaim
Even Christmas is incomplete without a Classic Arcade Game!
--
Merry Christmas all!!!
Tim
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Short Title: GameDiablo
From: Saber (saber1@IEATSPAMMERSoptonline.net)
Subject: Re: Merry Friggin Christmas!!!
Newsgroups: alt.games.diablo2
Date: 2003-12-24 17:04:25 PST
Twas the night before Christmas and all through bnut
The servers were emptying, and the monkeys were cut;
The mules were all emptied and lined up in a row,
In hopes of being filled by good ol'Mephisto;
The newsgroup grew quieter as the night went on,
Because most of the regulars were getting it on;
Those that remained were being merry and happy,
Partly because they realized they had behaved crappy,
When on the realms, there arose such a clatter,
I rush onto battle.net to see what was the matter;
Signing on as Rayau, I sped to the channel AGD2,
And asked the people there what was to-do;
"It has happened," they said with a grin,
"Diable walks the earth again."
Entering a game, I was able to see,
That the coming of Diablo was soon to be;
Bigger than before and twice as powerful,
This bad boy was sure to be a handful;
More rapid than Vigor, his minions they came,
As he beckoned and bellowed their name;
"Now Mephy! Now Baal! Now Shenk and Pindleskin!
On Counsil! On Andariel! On Duriel and Radament!
To the top of the mortal realm! To the top of the Heavens!
Now go forth! Go forth! Go forth all!"
As little hell-fires before the Inferno,
They burn everything where ever they go;
So up to the channels the monsters they inched,
Without Diablo even having to flinch.
Anyone wanna take this up? Time to spend some time with my family.
--
Saber
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Matthew Monroe in Richland, WA
Last Modified January 7, 2007