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: RecoveryNarcoticsAnonymous

Newsgroups: alt.recovery.na 
From: "Scott K Brumbaugh" 
Date: Sat, 25 Dec 2004 17:58:02 GMT 
Subject: NA night before Christmas... 

Night Before Christmas Recovery Style

Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through the halls;
not an addict was drinking,
or eating rumballs.

The children were happy,
their folks were serene,
Asleep in their rooms,
dreaming Christmastime dreams.

The sponsees were nestled
all snug by their phones;
Hoping their sponsors,
soon would be home.

Papa in his bathrobe,
And I in my gown;
Were grateful to be home,
not stumbling 'round town!

When out in the driveway,
I saw some headlights;
Who was coming to my house,
at this time of night?

Away to the window,
I flew at great speed;
I wanted to see,
what these people would need.

The night it was late,
didn't they know,
I would go downstairs quickly,
and tell them to go.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a lawn full of addicts,
and not one cup of cheer!

With hope in their hearts,
Anxious looks on each face;
They were scoping the town,
for their next meeting place.

I opened the door,
To let my friends in;
The Christmas Eve meeting,
Was about to begin!

On coffeepot, Cups,
and some sugar and cream,
Old-timers, newcomers,
and those in between.
"In my home you are safe!"
"Come on in!" hear my call
Now clean addicts, free addicts, recovering addicts, all!

As non-recovering addicts before a meeting do cry,
when they meet with the "obstacles selves" they deny;
So into the kitchen, the addicts they flew,
With a room full of feelings, some joyous, some blue.

And then in a moment,
the meeting did start;
A gratitude meeting,
clean living...and art!

As we went 'round the room,
there were stories of woe,
Descriptions of lives,
only addicts would know.

Stories dressed all in substances,
from beginning to end,
that "drug" was a gut-wrenching,
fair-weather friend.

A bundle of pain,
Each addict carried on her back;
The Road was quite bumpy!
The deck had been stacked!

Relationships, crumbled,
Our finances, weary,
Our souls were like vacuums
Our eyes always teary.

Each addict bared her soul,
and shared through the hour;
Of recovery held dear,
And a new "Higher Power"

The fellowship gave,
new life to each face;
All the clean women,
with dignity and grace.

A desire to stop using,
is all that's required,
A way out, a way up;
New lives to inspire!

It was time for the meeting,
to come to and end.
For all of the Addicts
and all of their friends.

THE Serenity PRAYER was then said
as we held hands and prayed,
Electricity, wonder
and magic displayed.

We did "clean up" and chattered
And when saying good-bye
Embraces, well wishes,
And not a dry eye.

I sprang to my bed,
And thanked God for this night.
I snuggled to Papa;
And all felt so right!

But I heard them exclaim,
as they all drove away,
"Thank God for N. A.
and each clean day!"


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Short Title: RecPetsCatsCommunity

From: Pamela O'Sullivan (posulliv@mcls.rochester.lib.ny.us)
Subject: twas the nite before 
Newsgroups: rec.pets.cats.community
Date: 2002-12-23 07:09:51 PST 
 

twas the nite before
the nite before
an' all thru-out da land
kitties scurried an' hurried
toward a nite dat wud be grand.

Paco an' Charlie sent wishes
tew all dere kitty frens'
an' da antis an' da uncles
an' effun d*gs an' TEDS...

Merry, merry Kissamouse
an' a Bast-blessed noo yeer
frum ower hous tew yur hous
(an' spehsully fur Miss Moneypenny, deer.)

Sined, PacoBell
Charlie (P.S. Happy Kissamouse, my fren Miss Bootsie!)
an' Meowmie Pam


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Short Title: RecRadioCB1

From: Kenneth Vaughan (kenneth.vaughan@worldnet.att.net)
Subject: the night before christmas "reprise" 
Newsgroups: rec.radio.cb
Date: 2001-12-24 19:25:58 PST 

twas the night before christmas, when all through the house.....
my radios were silent...silent as a mouse.
the antenna was hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that the "skip", soon would be there.

"gunslinger" was nestled, all snug in his bed.
while visions of x-force amps, danced in his head.

when on my front door, there arose such a clatter...
i sprang from my bed, to see what was the matter!

away to the window i flew like a flash,
thinking"if its uncle charlie, im outta some cash"
the moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
gave the lustre of mid-day, to the assholes below.

when what to my wondering eyes should appear!!
but an fcc van! and eight voobners in storm trooper gear!!!

with a little old driver, so lively and quick!
i knew in a moment, its RILEY...the prick!!

more rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
and he cussed, and he cursed, and called them by name!
"now voobner!, now leland! now richard! and jerry!
"come on you dummies, weve got to hurry!"

to the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
now grab his gear! grab his gear! grab it all!!

so out my back door, with my gear i flew!
with a box full of radios...and my linear, too!

i spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
i hid all my gear, then returned to the "jerk"
and flashing the "bird" finger, right under his nose!
said "too bad you couldnt find it, you dumb ass holes!!"

and he heard me exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"screw you riley!"...rec radio....good night!!!

elpasogunslinger    merry christmas....(all of you)

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Short Title: RecRadioCB2

Subject:      NO CRIME IN MY RYHME
From:         raycf@aol.com (RAYCF)
Date:         1997/12/26
Message-ID:   <19971226055901.AAA12158@ladder01.news.aol.com>
Newsgroups:   rec.radio.cb

Twas the night before christmas and all thru the band
There were channels full of newbies with new mikes in their hands
One asked for a radio check cause the swr was sky high
I had to laugh, then it made me cry
So I said turn this screw and cut the blue wire
Damn I'm so sorry, it started to melt from smoke and fire
So next time you need a radio check, because your no tech
remember your just a newbie, so what the heck!

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Short Title: RecRadioCB3

Subject:      Once Upon A Christmas Eve
From:         "Woody or Michele" 
Date:         1997/12/06
Message-ID:   <01bd0115$30eb2620$01895bcf@bumface>
Newsgroups:   rec.radio.cb

"Once upon a Christmas Eve"

Twas the night before Christmas,
And down the dark hall
I heard the deep voice
Of C.W. McCall

"Breaker One-Nine", he said with a sneer
"My truck's head up the ass, of a herd full of deer"

Glancing about I looked out the window
And from inside his cab, I saw the warm glow
Of glass valves - red hot, in the footwarmer this night
As St. Nick and McCall prepared for their flight

Out the window I went, and down a large vine
Reaching the ground, I turned to meet Red Sovine
He was carrying Teddy Bear under his arm,
Running away with a look of alarm

"He's seen us" Red said, a glint in his eye
McCall never flinched - just waved a "Good Bye"
Santa clamped down , foot to the floor
Then grabbed his hand mike and yelled "That's A'FOUR!!"

The big truck blew smoke, out of it's stacks
I climbed back up the vine and ran into my shack
There on the table, right next to the SAMS
Sat a big, brand new rig, vintage '72 Tram!

Breaker ONE-NINE, I broke into the night,
McCall's voice could be heard "We hear ya alright"
"Thanks for stuff", I said, rubbing my eyes,
"Don't say to much" said Red, "Or you'll make Teddy cry"

Setting the shiny, chicken-choker down,
I thumbed through an S9, and then turned up the sound
Channel sixteen, the lower side a good bet.....
I could hear Santa say: "Hope you like the new set"

"QSL 'ol St. Nick", I said gripping the mike
"Safe flying to you, and all CBer's alike
"Ten-four" he replied, his signal almost line-of-sight
"Merry Christmas to You, and to all a good night"


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Short Title: RecSportTableTennis

From: Larry Hodges (larry@larrytt.com)
Subject: Re: 2002 Board of Directors Election Results 
Newsgroups: rec.sport.table-tennis
Date: 2002-10-16 00:07:02 PST 
 
Twas the Night Before the Election
By Larry Hodges

Twas the night before the election, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,
The ballots were filled out by the mailbox with care,
In hopes that the postman soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their bed,
While visions of looping danced in their heads,
And mamma with her chopping, and I with my kill,
Had just glued up our blades for a long practice drill,

When out in the pro shop there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the playing court to see what was the matter.
Away to the pro shop I flew like a flash,
To make sure that no one would steal the club's cash.

The moon shining through the pro shop's window,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to the pro shop below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a fast-talking candidate, and eight tiny spokesdears.

What a little politician, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be a candidate.
More rapid than eagles his words they came,
And he talked, and he shouted, and called the spokesdears by name:

"Now, Jiing! Now, Lily! Now Tong and Larry!
On, George! On Barney! On, Attila and Tim and Jim and Olivier!
To the front of the club! Don't step on the ball!
Campaign away! Campaign away! Campaign away all!"

As dry leaves that before a big loop swing will fly,
When they meet with a paddle, and are hit to the sky,
So up to the table-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of pamphlets, and the politician too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the table,
That these little campaigners were really quite able.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Sliding along the net came the politician with a bound.

He was dressed all in leaflets, from his head to his feet,
Ones that he gave out to all those he would meet.
A bundle of campaign posters he had flung on his back,
He took them and nailed them to the wall with a smack!

His campaign platform came out so merry!
But the promises he made were all rather hairy.
His droll little mouth spoke bad of his foe,
Who we learned, very quickly, was the lowest of low.

The stump of a pencil he held tight in his ear,
With it he took notes, as he spoke with a leer.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he campaigned, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was forward and direct, a talkative elf,
Who spoke of budgets and planning, in front of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
And he handed me something that soon would be read.

He spoke many words of his plans and his work,
And why I should vote for him, then he turned with a jerk,
And raising his fingers in a victory sign,
Because he knew his promises were really quite fine.

He sprang to his campaign bus, and then gave a shout,
To his spokesdears, he shouted, let's find others who are out.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Vote for me tomorrow, as I'm the candidate who's right!"


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Short Title: Redneck1

             A Redneck Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas And all through the trailer
Not a creature was stirrin' 'Cept a redneck named Taylor.
His first name was Bubba, Joe was his middle,
And a-runnin' down his chin Was a trickle of spittle.
His socks, they were hung by the chimney with care,
And therefore there was a foul stench in the air.

That Bubba got scared And rousted the boys.
There was Rufus, 12; Jim Bob was 11;
Dud goin' on 10; Otis was 7.
John, George and Chucky Were 5,4, and 3:
The twins were both girls So they let them be.

They jumped in their overalls, No need for a shirt,
Threw a hat on each head, Then turned with a jerk.
They ran to the gun rack That hung on the wall.
There were 17 shotguns; They grabbed them all.

Bubba said to the young'uns, "Now hesh up ya'll!
The last thing we wanna do Is wake up yer Maw."
Maw was expecting And needed her sleep,
So out they crept out the door Without making a peep.

They all looked around, and then they all spit.
The young'uns asked Bubba, "Paw, what is it?"
Bubba just stared; He could not say a word.
This was just like all of The stories he'd heard.

It was Santy Claus on the roof, Darn tootin'
But the boys didn't know; They was about to start shootin'!
They aimed their shotguns and nearly made a mistake
That would have resulted in venison steak.
Bubba hollered out, "Don't shoot, boys!"
That's Santy Claus And he's brought us some toys.

The dogs were a-barkin' And a-raisin' cain,
And Bubba whistled, and shouted, And called them by name.
"Down, Spot! Shut up Bullet! Quiet, Pete and Roscoe!
Git, Turnip and Tater and Sam and Bosco!"

"Git down from that porch! Git down off that wall!
Quit shakin the trailer, Or you'll make Santy fall!"
The dogs kept a-barkin' And wouldn't shut up,
And they trampled poor Pete Who was only a pup.

Santy opened his bag, And threw out some toys.
Bubba got most, But left a few for the boys.
Since the guns had been dropped He just might not die.

He jumped in his sleigh, Told his reindeer to hurry.
The trailer started to wobble Santa started to worry.
Just as the reindeer Got into the air,
The trailer collapsed, But Bubba didn't care.

He was busy lookin' At all his new toys.
Then a thought hit him, And he said to the boys:
"Go check on yer Maw, Make sure she's all right.
That roof fallin' on her Could-a hurt just a might."

But Maw was OK, And the girls were too.
They fixed up the trailer; It looked good as new.
And as for Bubba, He liked Old St. Nick,
But Santa thought Bubba Was a pure-in-tee hick!

Bubba had a nice Christmas,  And the boys did, too.
And the Taylors wish A Merry Christmas to you!


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Short Title: Redneck2

From bugman@airmail.net Sat Dec 12 16:56:22 1998
Date: Sat, 12 Dec 1998 14:21:08 -0600
From: Bugman Ron 

   'Twas the Night After Christmas
          By Jeff Foxworthy

'Twas the night after Christmas and all through the trailer,
the beer had gone flat and the pizza was staler.
The tube socks hung empty, no candies or toys,
and I was camped out on my old Lay-Z-Boy.
The kids they weren't talking to me or my wife,
the worst Christmas they said they had had in their lives.
My wife couldn't argue and neither could I,
so I watched TV and my wife, she just cried.

When out in the yard the dog started barkin',
I stood up and looked and I saw Sheriff Larkin.
He yelled, "Roy I am sworn to uphold the laws
and I got a complaint here from a feller named Claus."
I said, "Claus, I don't know nobody named Claus,
and you ain't taking me in without probable cause."
Then the Sheriff he said, "The man was shot at last night."
I said, "That might have been me, just what's he look like?"
The Sheriff replied, "He's a jolly old feller, with a big beer gut belly,
that shakes when he laughs like a bowl full of jelly.
He sports a long beard, and a nose like a cherry."
I said, "Sheriff that sounds like my wife's sister Sherri."
"It's no time for jokes Roy" the Sheriff he said.
"The man I'm describing is dressed all in red.
I'm here for the truth now, it's time to come clean.
Tell me what you've done, tell me what you've seen."
Well I started to lie then I thought what the hell,
it wouldn't have been the first time that I've spent New Years in jail.

I said, "Sheriff it happened last night about ten,
and I thought that my wife had been drinking again."
When she walked in from work she was as white as a ghost.
I thought maybe she had seen one of them UFO's.
But she said that a bunch of deer had just flown over her head,
and stopped on the roof of our good neighbour Red.
Well I ran outside to look and the sight made me shudder,
a freezer full of venison standing right on Red's gutter.
Well my hands were a shakin' as I grabbed my gun,
when outta Red's chimney this feller did run.
And slung on his back was this bag over flowin'.
I thought he'd stolen Red's stuff while old Red was out bowling'.
So I yelled, "Drop fat boy, hands in the air!"
But he went about his business like he hadn't a care.
So I popped a warning shot over his head.
Well he dropped that bag and he jumped in that sled.
And as he flew off I heard him extort,
"That's assault with intent Roy, I'll see ya in court."


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Short Title: Redneck3

   Author:   Dr. Pepper
   Email: drpepper@HappyValley.net
   Date: 1998/12/17
   Forums: alt.tasteless.jokes
   
                         A REDNECK CHRISTMAS

'Twas the night before Christmas in my redneck house;
Junior was wringing the neck of a mouse.
My .357 sat right on my lap
Just waiting for Santa, to take all his crap.

The young'uns were restless and watching in shifts
To see if he'd come and I'd shanghai some gifts,
When out from the yard came a godawful noise
O could it be him with a shitload of toys?

I jumped from my chair and my crotch screamed in pain
I caught my left nut on my wallet's big chain
But then I unwrapped it and flew out the door
Yelling, "Hold it right there, you old son of a whore!"

"Hands in the air and kick over that sack,
And then real slowly move 20 feet back."
He did as I told him, fat, stupid old elf;
I laughed so damn hard I near pissed on myself.

I grabbed his big bag with a hearty guffaw
Then I dragged it inside after spitting some chaw.
I heard him take off - in a second he split,
Leaving my yard heaped with fresh reindeer shit.

Back in my chair I let out such a yelp
That the wife and the kids came to offer their help,
Their eyes filled with wonder - I started to drag
A whole shitload of presents from Santa's big bag.

I big can of crawdads for when I go fishin'
A whopping belt buckle - a brand new transmission,
A carton of Redman, some boots and a knife,
A nice leather strap just for beating the wife.

A matched set of hubcaps, some new fuzzy dice,
A country 8-track and a Hustler, how nice!
An inflatable dollie for when the old hag
Starts her bitching and moaning and goes on the rag.

When out of the bag I had pulled every bit
I said "Looks like you kids won't be getting no shit."
Here was my chance to try out my new strap
When they started their bawling and screaming and crap.

I chased them upstairs and I popped me a brew,
I sat back in my chair, filled my mouth up with chew,
With my heart full of gladness, my soul full of cheer,
I yelled up, "Maybe you'll get some presents next year!"

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Short Title: Redneck4

from http://www.spring-tree.com/christmas.html

      The Night Before a Redneck Christmas
                        
       It was the night before Christmas,
       and all through the trailer park,
           not a pop-top was poppin',
           not even Ole Blue barked.
                        
             Our stockin's was hung
        over the space heater with care,
            in the hopes that Santy
     would fill 'em with Viennas and beer.
                        
              The kids was asleep
             in their NASCAR pj's,
         Dreamin' of Goo Goo Clusters,
           Moon Pies, and Milkyway's.
                        
           And Earlene in her curlers
          and me in my Earnhardt cap,
      had just settled into our La-Z-Boys
        for Wheel of Fortune and a nap.
                        
           Then out in the vacant lot
           I heart such a commotion,
        I thought it was neighbor Clyde,
       finally got his T'bird in motion.
                        
          I heaved out of my recliner
           and to the window I flew,
             Busted out the screen
           and hollered to Ole Blue.
                        
            The moon was shinin down
            on my old wrecked cars,
          so bright they was sparklin'
             like rusty old stars.
                        
             And I couldn't believe
            by own hardworkin' eyes,
         when a jacked-up Chevy pickup
          come flyin' through the sky!
                        
             Faster'n Ole Ironhead
             his possums they came,
          and he whooped and hollered
            and called 'em by name:
                        
            "Git up Sooner! Hi Duke!
        Move yer tails Yaller and Spud!
            On Blackie! On Queenie!
         You mind me Duchess and Bud!"
                        
       "To the top of the satellite dish!
            To the top of the shed!
           Now move it n' Step on it!
            Ya'll get out the lead!"
                        
          You know how on our old road
            whenev'r a car goes by,
             there's all this dirt
          that flies up into the sky?
                        
              That's how this crew
        went straight on up to my roof,
         with that pickup full of toys,
  a real nice gun rack, and Redneck Santa too.
                        
       Then 'fore I could pop my teeth in
             I heerd up on the tin,
             the scrabbling around
        of them flying possums of his'n.
                        
      I yanked my head back in the trailer
           and hitched up my shorts,
     Down the dryer vent Redneck Santa came
           with a grunt and a snort!
                        
      He was dressed in red-and-green camo
           from his neck to his feet,
          and I had to give him credit
        he still had most of his teeth.
                        
   Looked like stuff from Earlene's yard sale
               slung on his back,
     There was flyswatters an' Tupperware,
     an' 8-tracks stickin' out of his pack.
                        
             When he winked his eye
      I knew fer sure he'd treat us right,
            why, he just might even
          leave me some ammo tonight!
                        
     I stood there dreamin' of a whitetail
           while I watched him work,
      then he stopped and like a real man,
           let out a fart and a burp.
                        
          He topped off our stockin's
       with Moon Pies and bottle rockets,
         then squoze up that dryer vent
           like Spam in your pocket.
                        
            He jumped in his pickup,
             laid down on the horn,
               And I'm not lyin',
 they took off with their possum tails flyin'.
                        
             But I heerd him holler
           as he headed for the 7-11,
            "Merry Christmas to all!
     And may all rednecks get into heav'n!"

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Short Title: Redneck5

   Author:   Le_ClickNOSPAM
   Email: Le_ClickNOSPAM@webtv.net
   Date: 1998/12/23
   Forums: alt.personals.gay

 A SEAN WALSH CHRISTMAS POEM
   
Twas the night before christmas
And all through Sean Walshes trailer
His mother was cursing
She had a mouth like a sailor

They went to a crossburning
With cone hats on their heads
That were made from the sheets
On their couch pull out bed

They hung the swatstikas
From their christmas tree with care
His mother wearing her curlers
Gave the neighbors a good scare.

Santa said "On dasher, on Prancer, Vixon and Nixon"
"Oh no, I have to put presents in another hicks den".

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Short Title: Redneck6

   Author:   TBowmanPI
   Email: tbowmanpi@aol.com
   Date: 1998/12/15
   Forums: alt.private.investigator
   
        TENNESSEE CHRISTMAS

'Twas the Night before Christmas, and all through the shack
Not a creature was stirrin', cept the lice on muh back.
The skoal cans wuz nailed to the screen door with care,
With hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were sleepin', all snug in their beds,
While visions of  tractor pulls danced in their heads.
And Ma in her nightgown all stained with pound cake.
Had just settled down to watch Ricki Lake.

When out in the driveway, a loud noise I heard,
I opened the winder to check muh T-bird.
I ran to the door, like I's on a mission,
But I tripped on some parts from muh granny's transmission.

The moon shone outside, the hound dog wuz barkin'.
Muh daughter weren't  home yet, she wuz still out parkin'.

When what to muh whiskey blind eyes should I see
But a Chevy S-10, pulled by eight flyin' sheep.
With a fat nasty driver, so disgustin' and sick
I said "Shoot Fire!"  That  must be St. Nick!

More rapid than X-lax his wooly sheep came
And he belched and he hollered, and he called 'em by name.
Now CLIFFORD!  Now VERNON!  Now LESTER and ENUS!
On FESTUS!  On ELMER!  On ROSCOE and CLETUS!

From the top of the shack to them there garbage bins
Now Dash Away!  Dash Away!  Dash Away youins!

I heard a loud sound on the roof of muh shack.
Pud down muh beer and went fer muh gun rack.
He fell through the roof, plum killed my dog,
I swear that ole' Santa looked just like Boss Hog.

He wore a T-shirt, rebel flag on the front,
And his jeans were all bloody from that morning's hunt.
A big nekkid lady tattooed on his arm,
And he wore black boots that he'd picked up in Nam.

His eyes how they glazed from too much Wild Turkey.
From the side of his mouth hung a stick of beef jerky.
A scar on his cheek from a fight with the cops.
The veins on his face looked ready to pop.

The butt of a Marlboro clung to his lip
He wore a hip pack full of B-B-Q chips.
He had a fat face and a hairy beer belly.
I ain't seen one that big since muh ex-wife Shelly.

He was gap-toothed and dumb with an I.Q. of three
And I laughed cause that redneck was smarter than me.
A wink of his eye, a fierce shake of his head,
From his hair came a rat that ran under the bed.

He reached in his sack, sipped his gin and tonic,
Then filled the kid's stockings with Hooked on Phonics.
His toys came from Big Lots and they weren't very nice
But he had lots of them and yuh can't beat the price.

He gave us a tape of them hound dogs that sing Jingle Bells.
Some Crisco, some Spam, some Oatmeal Cream pies,
And a Nascar T-shirt in Double X size.

When the presents were gone and he had no more,
He staggered and stumbled right through muh screen door.

He hopped in his truck, to his sheep gave an order
"Hurry up youins!  To the 'Bama border!"
And I heard him cry out, with a strong southern drawl,
"MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU REDNECKS!  MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL!"

YEE HAWWWW!

Ya'll have a good'un, ya hear?
T.


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Short Title: Redneck7

From: Jeffrey Richardson
Date: Wed, 24 Dec 2003

If this is your "Night Before Christmas", you might be a redneck


T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the trailer, 
Not a critter was stirrin' they was drunk as a sailor,
The youngn's was droolin' all snug in their beds, 
Whilst visions, of Opreyland danced in their heads,

And Raelene in her flannels, my John Deere cap in place,
Had just passed out again, and I snoozed on my face, 
When out in the barnyard, I heared such a clatter,
I run to the winder, and the screen I did batter,

The moon, lit the yard full of junked cars below, 
And shined real nice over Old Yeller's snow, 
When what in the samhill did I squint at in fear,
But a ladder side truck that was stuck in high gear,
With a hairy old driver, all dressed up and slick,
Whilst I knowed I was drunk, this just must be St. Nick,

Quicker than Petty his truck it did seem, 
And he whooped and he hollered and let out a scream, 
On Bubba, on Cooter, On Jim Bob, and Billy, 
On Enos, On Earl, On Leroy, and Willy,

Like a piston rod, shot from an engine that's died,
When there ain't no more oil, cause your rings are all fried,
Right over the privy his pickup it flashed,
To the roof of my trailer, 
on my deerstand it crashed,

And then in second I heared on the ceilin', 
The stompin' and stumblin' of that old codger  reelin',
As I pulled in my ears, and was jackin' a round,
Down the stovepipe St. Nick he done dove for the ground,

He was dressed real nice, in red coveralls gleamin'
Nascar patches sewed neatly, shiny gold thread the seamin'.
A Rebel flag tote sack, had broken his fall, 
But he lurched like a driver who had just smacked the wall.

His eyes how they watered, his jaws was all hairy, 
His cheeks filled with Redman, his nose broke and scary
His mean little mouth was drawn up like to spit, 
And the beard on his chin, was all stained from that shit.

Because of the Redman, he had but three teeth,
And the ones that I seen was a green as a wreath,                
He had a red face, and monstrous gut, 
That jiggled and shook, like my wife's mothers butt. 

He was lit up like daylight from the whiskey he drank, 
And he weren't too clean by the way that he stank,
I aimed at his gut, then the back of his head, 
With my Remington 12 gauge to shoot him cold dead,

He mumbled and cursed like he hated to work, 
But he left us some Moonpies, and deer that he'd jerked, 
Then sticking his finger way up in his nose, 
And breaking his wind, up the flue pipe he rose,

He started his truck, from the engine a wail, 
And away he took off, like a man loosed from jail,
But I heared him let out with a drunk rebel yell, 
"Happy Christmas you Rednecks, and Y'all go to hell". 


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Short Title: Rehab

From: Burt Ward (billybud12@yahoo.com)
Subject: ~ 'Twas the Night Before Rehab ~ 
Newsgroups: alt.recovery.na, alt.recovery.aa
Date: 2001-12-24 17:35:55 PST 

  ~ 'Twas the Night Before Rehab ~

'Twas the night before rehab and all through my brain
Danced so many creatures like FEAR, HOPE, and PAIN.

To the top of the mountain, a place called, "The Farm,"
My training began ~ despite my alarm.

My guard was up as I'd done this before,
And I prayed it would leave when I entered the door.

"Have a treatment experience," J.D. had said.
It was then that I realized I still had some dread.

But my nerves settled down, and my work then began
On the numerous tasks found in my treatment plan.

One of my first tasks was relating my story,
Which then quickly led to a self-inventory.

Anger, resentment, selfishness, and fear
Were a few of my defects that appeared crystal clear.

Manipulation, pride, impatience, and lust,
Intolerance, dishonesty ~ CHANGE was a MUST!

I listed my assets to gain a perspective,
And realized once more I was not all defective.

Honesty, openness, the ability to care,
Self-acceptance, commitment, and hope ~ not despair!

Patience and tolerance, the willingness to grow,
An attitude of gratitude began now to show.

Confronted with more insight, to now greater depths,
I knew it was the right time to rework The Steps.

Powerless, unmanageable the nature of me
Focused my thoughts back on Step 2 and Step 3.

Inventory, confession, readiness, and prayer
Tackled my short comings and lessened their glare.

Made amends to my family, to whom I'd done harm ...
And a daily spot check ... it worked like a charm.

Now I prayed for the knowledge of God's will for me,
As I completely surrendered and then was set free.

'Twas the night before discharge and all through my brain
No longer danced feelings like fear, dread, and pain.

I was leaving the mountain, a place called "The Farm,"
And, as I was told, it had done me no harm.

Some changes occurred as the result of my stay.
The first one that stands out is my action of play.

More faith and more trust, a stronger program to live,
More ability to take ... and not just to give.

Courage, humility ... gifts from my Higher Power above,
Deeper serenity and a greater self-love.

My time now has come to say my final good-bye.
ONE DAY AT A TIME I no longer live high!
~ Author Unknown ~

Posted by ~Ada V. Hendricks~

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Short Title: RoadRage

From: BA (spectrunmung@iglou.com)
Subject: Road-Rage Xmas 
Newsgroups: alt.appalachian
Date: 2002-12-22 12:44:44 PST 

Road-Rage Xmas

'Twas the night before Xmas, the streets were a mess
with last-minute shoppers unleashing their stress.
The traffic was swarming like flies on a turd
with honking and yelling and flipping the bird.
Mama in the cockpit, and I with a map,
had just turned around to get out of the crap,

When over a median, cellphone-distracted,
an urban assault wagon flew and compacted
a mini-van trying a left-handed U-ie:
The shopping bags flew as they both went Ka-blooey!

The corridor lights on the metal and snow
shone blue on the cuts of the victims below.
The cellphones were chiming, an ambulance called;
it couldn't get thru 'cause the traffic was stalled.
But lawyers there were, and in less than a flash,
arrangements were made to distribute the cash.

With similar accidents all over town,
the exits to parking lots all were shut down.
Employees and shoppers were trapped in the malls,
and Xmas arrived with them climbing the walls.
And we heard someone say, as we got out of range,
"How much of this stuff will they let us exchange?"

BA
Winter Solstice 2002


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Short Title: RockClimbing

From: Mountain Man (Mountainman5308@aol.com)
Subject: 'Twas the night before Christmas 
Newsgroups: rec.climbing
Date: 2002-12-23 19:57:28 PST 

'Twas the night before Christmas 
Way up on the crag. 
My well-oiled plans 
Were hitting a snag. 

I'm stuck and I'm stranded 
With no one to blame. 
My well-oiled bragging 
Was bringing me shame. 

I was down on a barstool 
Just hours ago. 
I was telling the gang 
I would give it a go. 

I'd solo the big one 
The one they all fear. 
I'd solo The Monster 
With minimal gear. 

I'd do it at night 
And I'd do it alone. 
I'd do it in hobnails 
That slide on the stone. 

I'm such a great climber 
(When I'm down in the bar) 
That no one can top me 
From near or from far. 

But now that's behind me. 
I'm stuck on a shelf. 
My skills have all vanished -- 
I've murdered myself. 

If someone would save me 
I'd clean up my act. 
I'd stop all the bragging. 
I'd make it a pact! 

Then far up above me 
I hear an odd sound. 
There's someone rappelling! 
There's rescue around! 

With a grunt and a cough 
And an odd sounding bump. 
My rescuer lands 
On the ledge with a thump. 

By the light of the moon 
I can get a good look. 
This man's not a climber! 
He's some kind of kook! 

He's dressed all in red 
With fringes of white. 
He's filling a pipe 
And preparing to light! 

"I much prefer chimneys," 
He said with a grin. 
But I didn't care much, 
(The state I was in). 

"I've brung all your presents," 
He went on to say. 
"I think you might need them 
To live through the day." 

He opened a haulbag 
That hung on his back. 
And from the inside 
He began to unpack. 

There were biners and daiseys 
And runners and friends. 
There were pitons and quickdraws 
And ropes without end. 

There were shoes that were sticky 
And chalk that was not. 
There was everything needed 
To exit this spot. 

"Well that about does it," 
He said as he turned. 
"You'll top out in no time. 
An FA well earned." 

Then he stepped on a sloper 
And wrinkled his nose. 
And without any effort 
Up the rock wall he rose! 

At the top of the crag 
He gave me a wave. 
As cool as could be,
and didn't even rave.

And I heard him exclaim 
As he pulled the last mantle 
"A Merry Christmas to all 
from your rock-climbin' Santle!"


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Short Title: RockyHorrorPictureShow

From: Shawn McHorse (shawn@rockymusic.org)
Subject: Rocky Horror Night Before Christmas 
Newsgroups: alt.cult-movies.rocky-horror
Date: 2002-12-05 13:54:41 PST 
 

A local cast member wrote this and posted it on our cast message board.  Thought
I'd repeat it here, since it's pretty darned cool...:-)  The author is Hez Lesh.


The Rocky Horror Night Before Christmas, as told by Columbia

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the castle
Not a creature was stirring or making a hassle.
Our fishnets were hung up with Eddie's horn
This was the year before Rocky was born.

Riffy and Magenta were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of Time Warpers danced in their heads.
And Eddie in his helmet and I in my cap
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

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

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But some motorcycles and some Transies, I fear.

But their tall, skinny leader! Could this be a prank?
I knew in a moment it had to be Frank.
More rapid than eagles the Transies they came
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

'Now Sadie, Now Tony, Now Perry, Now Lindsay,
On Kimi, On Peggy, On Henry, OH BABY!*
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!'

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the castle the Transies they flew,
With a sack full of 'toys', and Dr. Frank, too.

And then in a twinkling I heard a strange beat
And the stomping gyrations of the Transie's feet.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Dr. Frank came with a bound.

He was dressed in lingerie, from his head to his foot,
And his face was all tarnished with ashes and soot.
The bundle of 'toys' he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a vagrant just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His red-painted mouth was drawn up in a grin,
I *really* wanted to jump on him.

The butt of a Marlboro he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a white face and a gaze that was steady,
And suddenly I forgot all about Eddie.

He was charming and tall, a sweet Transie elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all our fishnets; then turned with a jerk,
And smirking at me, in a low voice he said,
;Columbia, my dear, go on up to *my* bed.'

I sprang to the stairs while Frank gave a whistle,
And away the Transies flew like the down of a thistle
But I heard him exclaim, ere they drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT."

*Names of some of the Transylvanians cast in the movie.

--
Shawn McHorse             |  Article posted through RockyNewsgroup.org -
Queerios (Austin, Texas)  |  the Rocky Horror Usenet newsgroup archive.
http://www.queerios.org   |         http://www.rockynewsgroup.org


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Short Title: RollerCoaster

Subject:      Coaster Carol Sing-Along Time
From:         coasternut@earthlink.net (David Bowers)
Date:         1997/12/22
Message-ID:   <349efde0.679097645@news.earthlink.net>
Newsgroups:   rec.roller-coaster

"The Coaster Lovers Night Before Christmas"
note: this is my latest and is stil in rough draft, please be kind.

Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the park
not a ride was stirring,
not even "Wild Mouse".

The coaster trains were parked
in their stations with care
protected from the snow
that soon would be there

The Dodgems were all
secured in their shed
Flat rides dismantled
for the winter ahead

Then Coaster Withdrawl hit
so I pulled out my park map
And drove to the park
and there set up camp

Then Up on the tracks
there arose such a clatter
I sprang over the fence
to see what was the matter

then what to my wondering
eyes did appear
A NAD Train
and eight rrc readers

There in the front seat
Were Walter and Clyde
And Ron at the controls
He never rides.

There in the back seat
were Larrick and Rebbie
as I ran up the ramp
they said "Come on We're ready"

Into a seat I quickly dashed
Not knowing if the dream will last
I lowered the bar,
and made sure the seatbelt was lashed

Then up the lift we rose,
all filled with joy ,
and all agreed,
"This is better than any toy"

As we crested the lift,
we saw Santa to the right,
saying "Merry Christmas to all"
"And to all a good night"


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Short Title: RossHendry(TUWS)

From: Ross Hendry (rwh@dcs.ed.ac.uk)
Subject: A poem what I wrote 
Newsgroups: alt.comics.2000ad
Date: 2001-12-22 08:53:50 PST 
 
Twas the weekend before Christmas and all through the flat,
A small ginger droid tweaked with this and with that,
For he had a plan, something to achieve, 
Other people, he knew would scarcely believe
What he had in store on that cold winters day 
To unleash on the web come what will or what may.

Nearly complete, if we ignore any bugs,
He kick starts the engine, it whines, it chugs,
Before springing to life, a Phoenix reborn!
Could it be, tell me so, that by the night's morn,
The people will say, "did you see, can you tell?"
Hend-RE has returned and is weaving his spell!

Now you go and read, I'm off for a snack,
Tell all you now, that TUWS is back!

http://www.2000ad.nu/tuws/

Hend-RE

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Short Title: RudolphGone

Subject:      Raindeer
From:         "Keith E. Sullivan" 
Date:         1997/12/23
Message-ID:   <67q1qa$gaq@mtinsc03.worldnet.att.net>
Newsgroups:   alt.humor

MYSTERY OF RUDOLPH
by Terry Gray and Larry Gable

'Twas the night before Christmas and we were all in a hurry
No one had seen Rudolph, Santa started to worry.

We looked everywhere both high and low
and we knew we needed Rudolph for the big show.

When he was found he looked sickly and pale
He said that he partied too hard and spent 3 days in jail.

Santa told Rudolph the big night was here
so go take a shower and put down the beer

That's when Rudolph told Santa "I don't think I can"
and Santa said but you have to, "Cause I love you, man"

And if you don't listen to what I'm telling you
tomorrow for lunch we'll have Reindeer stew!

So Rudolph said "fine, let's pack up and go"
but before we do there's something you should know

"This is the last year I'll pull your damn sled
Because after this I'm retiring to bed"

The day after Christmas Santa threw a big feast
we had cakes and pies and even roast beef

But then with a sly grin Santa said we should try something new
Mrs. Claus has cooked all day and made us some stew.

We ate and we drank til they turned the lights off
but none seemed to know what ever happened to Rudolph

We here at the North Pole we'll miss his red nose
It's still a big mystery that only Santa knows!

http://www.netfuel.com/divvworld/santa/page2.html

--
Keith's Mostly Clean Humor & Weird (McHaw) List

To subscribe or unsubscribe, write maiser@mail.otherwhen.com
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Last Modified January 7, 2007