Canonical List of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas Variations
Version 2007.1
Part 49 of 50
January 7, 2007

Compiled by: Matthew Monroe

Archived at:

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: UkRecSheds

From: Gid Holyoake (
Subject: Felicitations of the Season 
Newsgroups: uk.rec.sheds
Date: 2002-12-22 17:40:55 PST 

Twas the night before Chrimbo and all through the shed,
Not a poster was stirring, all tucked up in bed.
When up from the darkness there came a loud wail
As Santa's new cardi got snagged on a nail.

"Oh hooter!" he cried as he dragged in his sack,
Which he promptly sat down on and moaned: "Oohmeback!"
He picked up an old E&M and leafed through it,
Searching in "Misc." for a circular tuit,

When his gaze was drawn down to a biro scrawled star
Right next to an advert for "Hawkin's Bazaar".
As he opened his hip-flask and swigged at his Red-Eye
He said: "Just the ticket for gifts for the Sheddi."

When from outside the door there came such a clatter
That he had a quick peek to see what was the matter.
It wasn't that long before he found the truth.
All the AOL CDs had fell off the roof.

"Oh obllcosk!" he said as he looked at the debris
"There's enough jbex there to last me till Febr'y."
So back in his shed he went, searching and scanning
The shelves for some fag-packets, ready for planning

What he would need to skipweasel or borrow
To molish his shed again... starting tomorrow!
He opened a BA, gave the bottle a wipe
And started to drink as he reached for his pipe.

Then he looked through the tins for some 'baccy to use
But the first one was "washers" and the next two were "screws".
So he finished the bottle and started a second.
It would keep out the chill of the night, so he reckoned.

As he sat in the shed, in the gloom, on his tod,
His white bearded head began gently to nod.
So if you discover a chap dressed in red
Fast asleep in the corner of *your* favourite shed,

Don't prod him or poke him or chase him away,
It's only old Santa.. he's had a hard day.



Short Title: Unabomber

Subject:      The Nite Before Xmas
From:         shadow 
Date:         1997/12/24
Message-ID:   <>

       The Nite before Xmas
         by Shadow

 Twas the night before Xmas and all thru the cabin
  not a creature was stirring.... except for a madman
 his bombs all lined up by the woodstove with care
  in hopes that the mailman soon would be there.
 He wrapped them with ribbons in packages bright
  With the hopes that the Corpocrats soon would sleep tight.

 When all of a sudden there arose such a clatter
  He went to the door to see what was the matter
 And there at the door stood a huge mob of Feds
  With a bright set of handcuffs & sharp orange threads.

 He said "what? me wear those things? No way! In your dreams!
  Cause this package will blow you to small smithereens!
 Come Blaster & Blixen, come Thunder & Blitzen
  My little creations, to you I do call,
  Blast away, blast away, blast away all!"

 He called to his guests as they ran off in fright,
  "Happy bombing to you and to you a good night!"

Happy Holidays to you All,
Including our man in Sacramento


Short Title: UNCSupport

From: (Elizabeth A. Evans)
Subject: ATN/Support: 'Twas the Night Before Scott Left
Date: 17 Dec 1998 11:46:12 -0500

Well, I *tried* to have this ready in time for Scott Barker's
farewell lunch yesterday, but... but... but... A couple of
folks suggested I finish it after the fact and send it out
to these lists. So, here is this year's annual rendition
of "'Twas the Night Before..." --this year, it's in Scott's

-- Libby Evans

'Twas the night before Scott left, and all through UNC
Not a daemon was sleeping on any PC.
The mail servers were working on all of their queues
In hopes that no mail would tonight be refused.

The users were nestled all snug in their chairs
With visions of mail messages going somewhere.
And Scott with his server and Jim with his beer
Had just settled down like the two musketeers.

When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
Jim spilled his beer and on Scott it did splatter.
Away down the hall they flew like the dickens,
Threw open the door and stood there awestricken.

The moon on the windows of Sitterson Hall
Gave an eery green glow as they heard someone bawl.
And then to their wondering eyes he appeared,
Leonardo DaVinci in Nike footgear.

He looked so upset, so sad and depressed,
They knew in a moment he was there to protest.
More rapid than fiber, he spoke to the two,
And he muttered and cursed, bad words he did spew!

"Now, Barker, Now Gogan, I want to know why!
Why to my mail service are you saying 'good-bye?'
So what if it uses its own protocol?
So what if the mail is sometimes quite stalled?"

As dead software that's never upgraded
Into our long history has soon faded,
So into a glimmer Leonardo disappeared
While Barker and Gogan stood there and cheered.

So into the machine room like data they flew,
With a gleam in their eyes and fresh mugs of cold brew.
And then, in a twinkling, they heard once again
The whining of Leonardo and several more men.

As they stopped in their tracks and were turning around,
Down the hall came Leonardo with reinforcements all-round.
They were dressed all in Windows, from their heads to their toes,
And their Windows were all broken from mad user blows.

A bundle of cables was flung on each back,
And Leonardo used one of them to give Gogan a whack!
Jim's's's eyes--how they sparked! Like bolts from the sky!
His cheeks were puffed out, he emitted out a loud cry!

He rushed Leonardo while Barker logged on;
Wild cries were soon heard, "DaVinci, Be gone!!"
Scott's fingers were typing as fast as he could.
The DaVinci mail gateway was almost deadwood.

A tap of "Return"  and a moment or two
Soon had Leonardo completely subdued.
He spoke not a word as away he did flee
And our campus said farewell to a mail legacy.

And Barker and Gogan breathed a sigh of relief
As they planned a vacation on the Great Barrier Reef.
And we heard them exclaim as they dove out of sight,
"Happy mailing to all, and to DaVinci, good night!"


Short Title: UnsocialChild

From: Mr. Behrendt (
Subject: Davis and his bio 
Newsgroups: alt.war.civil.usa
Date: 2003-02-19 05:48:02 PST 
I post some verse I composed a couple of years ago that shed 
some light on his strange and unsocial behavior.

Ode' to William Davis in the meter of  "Twas the night before Christmas"

The beer had been drunk and the day was all gone
The radio was playing their favorite song
Mrs. wanted sleep and Mr. had to pee
But later that night came the start of Willy

Through nine months of torture he kicked and he squirmed
The parents were worried and friends were concerned
What would it be was anyone's call
They considered an abortion, but that wasn't the law

Then the day came and to the Hospital they all went
With much pain and remorse his first breath he did vent
And now all could see what was brought by the Stork
The parents were silent the staff thought him a Dork

The first years were bad, the house always a mess
Why he was retentive one only could guess
Mom still held out hope and often wished on a star
Dad simply shook his head and went to the bar

In the years that followed to school he did strut
Like Gump he would run so he wouldn't get beat up
Mom called the Principle to holler and fuss
They did an evaluation and made him ride a short bus

One night to a movie little Willy did go
And on that bright screen a kid played a Banjo
Everyone noticed how he and Will looked the same
He left without learning Deliverance was that movies name

The teen years were filled with rage and some hate
Only Will was unusual, he couldn't find a date
He knew love would come but from where and just when
Alas it was found with his hand holding more than a pen

Into adulthood he went although ill prepared
Through all his endeavors everyone thought he was weird
He argued and insisted he have his own way
And soon it was realized he was best kept at bay

The story is told and some lessons have been learned
For us it's to late but no one else should get burned
We all have seen from him what's in store
My advice to all good people is to simply ignore


Short Title: Urban2

From: Theodore Jamison
Date: 2004-11-30

Urban Night Before Christmas
 - Jay-Z or 50 Cent would've read a poem like this...
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the hood
Not a gangsta was stirring, not that they ever would
The lights were all hung on the cribs with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there
The boys were nestled all snug in their beds
With basketballs and Mercedes Benzes rolling in their heads
And my girl in her do-rag, and I in my cap
Had both settled down for a long winter's nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang on my feet to see what was the matter
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Ripped open the shutters and lifted the sash
The moon shining down on the new-fallen snow
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below
When what to my shocking surprise should appear
A red Hummer for a sleigh, with horsepower instead of reindeer

With a little old driver, so lively and so quick
I said "It can't be!" but it was St. Nick
More rapid then eagles the big Hummer came
Blasting loud rap music and he shouted some names:
"Yo Dasher, Yo Dancer, Yo Prancer and Vixen!
Hey Comet, Hey Cupid, Hey Donner and Blitzen!
To the side of the street, to the side of the wall
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the summer hurricane fly
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
And set in four-wheel drive the Hummer came through
With a truckload of presents and Santa Claus too
And then in a twinkling I heard up on top
The patter of his boots as he worked nonstop
As I turned from the window and started going down
Santa had come down the chimney in a bound
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all dirty in ashes and soot
He was carrying that big load in his fancy black boots
And he looked just like a hood rat opening that loot
His eyes--how they twinkled!  His dimples--how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His sweet little mouth was drawn up like a bow
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow
A big fat cigar 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 bowl full of jelly
He was little and fat, a real jolly 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 went straight to work, without saying a word
And a choir of carolers could soon be heard
And then just like mojo, he vanished in the night
He got in his Hummer and drove out of sight
And I heard him exclaim, as he drove through the streets:
"Merry Christmas to all, and until next year, Peace!"


Short Title: UrbanRendition

From: (
Subject: Digest for, issue 1322 
Newsgroups: soc.culture.ethiopia.moderated
Date: 2002-12-21 14:35:05 PST 

-- Topica Digest --

(.)~~~ TheBlackList  Information  eMails ~~~(.)
Keeping us informed, in touch, in step & on time
To Unsubscribe/Remove yourself from this list,


Brothers, it has been a long, but satisfying, year.

As the Old Preachers used to say: "Anytime you wake
up and don't find your name in the Obituary Column,
count yourself as being blessed!"  With the stress of
the holidays, uncertain economic times ahead in the
New Year, and dozens of other major--and
minor--firefights in the bushes aimed at our
backsides, I wanted to take a break and provide a
little poem to cheer us for the days ahead: The Urban
Rendition of--"Twas the Night Before Christmas".

Have a great one, and I'll see you all up and down
the communication lines in the New Year!


Twas the Night before Christmas,
and all through the city,
while there was record snowfall,
the cops were still busy.

While the Dope Dealers were in the Lockup,
dressed in orange so bright,
the local narcs were on the move,
to bust a meth lab by moonlight.

When out on the lawn,
arose such a clatter,
I pulled the slide on my '9
to see what was the matter.

Twas the SWAT team in their van,
they rolled out into the snow,
Santa was quickly cornered,
he had no where to go.

But what before my wandering ears did appear,
I thought I was on a strange trip,
a black cop shouted: "We've got them pesky reindeer,
but Santa gave us the slip!"

But, somehow Santa slipped down my chimney,
that white boy was all agile and quick,
I caught him with my laser-dot sight,
the Big Boy froze--real quick!

"Now Christian, dear Christian,"
he screamed out in glee,
"I am the REAL spirit of Christmas--
you don't want to mess with me!"

"Up against the wall, you demon!" I said
with my Word and gun aimed at his neck,
"Jesus wasn't born on this day,
so His birthday you could wreck!"

I slapped on the cuffs,
and opened his bag to see;
I found a whole lot of stuff from my house;
the fat guy was robbing me!

Santa wanted to get rowdy,
and phone his attorney for a quick deal;
I pumped a round into his leg,
and you should have heard the fat man squeal!

The paddy wagon soon arrived,
and Santa wanted to get cute;
"Who are you kidding fat man?" the cop told him;
"You'd best get ready for an orange suit!"

Sure, it was nearing Christmas morn,
but take a tip from me;
Don't let Santa break into a Christian's house,
at least not while the Christian is armed--tee hee!

And, as the paddy wagon drove off;
I heard Santa exclaim in the night;
"I'd never thought I'd find a Christian,
who was willing to put up such a fight!"

(C) 2001--2003 Mike Ramey/Barnstorm Communications International.
*No animals were harmed during the writing of this column!


Short Title: UticaCrime

   Author:   Gangstamc
   Email: gangstamc@aol.comQm80boom
   Date: 1998/12/22
   Forums: alt.tasteless.jokes
Twas the night before christmas in utica
and all through the houses not a creature was stiring
so i robed every ones house.
THe stockings were unhung from the rails
the christmas tree was sold to the mob
drugs were making the crooks see stuff dancing round ther heads
the kids were snuggled up in the corner of there rooms
waiting for ther parents to get there welfare checks
to bye the gifts.The kids were roasting chestnuts on the open house fires.
The croocks were all out selling there stolen
goods to get money for christmas gifts.
The stores were all robed of,turkery,oleves,cranbaries,lazana,fruit cake
pies and cookies.The cashregisters were all emptied with care. The city peeps
all woke up and yelled out there winows who the hell robed my house im going to
kill the mothers.The phones at the police station were ringing and ringing and
ringing but no one answeared couse they all eating donuts at dunken donuts.
The streets were filled with gun fire,kids screaming and running in front of
cars.Horns were honken and that was the christmas i had in utica.

Ron powers
if ya live in utica ya know what all this is bout
kaboom kaboom there goes the fireworks


Short Title: Vegas

Author:   AlnBC
Date: 1998/11/07
Forums: alt.vacation.las-vegas
The Night Before Vegas
By alnbc

Twas the night before Vegas, when all through the house
Not a worry was thought of, by me or my spouse;
The bags were all packed, the clothes folded with care,
In hopes that soon wed be on the plane and just get there.

Everyone was nestled all snug in our beds,
While visions of mega bucks danced in our heads;
Though I couldnt sleep well while thinking of lv,
I knew I could take a nap on the plane in my seat, 11-C.

When she thought she heard something down in the den,
She jumped up out of bed to see who, what and when.
She had to run down and get there in a flash,
Couldnt let a thief get our tickets or cash.

With the faint light casting shadows in the hall,
She could see an outline as she came closer, on the wall;
As tired as she was, now she was getting curious.
"Why wasnt he in bed? I'm going to be furious!

As she eased up behind me, so stealth in the dark night,
She couldn't quite see what was going on, in dim light;
How can he be up, what is he doing at this time?
Is it something underhanded, what could be the crime?

I was pounding on the keyboard. "what could he be typing? 
Could it be? Oh good Lord!
With all we had to do, with the sleep we needed,
She had begged, she had reasoned, she even had pleaded.

It's not a compulsion or addiction, I can control it.
I had told her, I knew anytime I could quit,
But no, I couldnt, I had to let everyone know:
At the top of the page it said T-1, 5 hours to go.

We're on our way!


Short Title: Vegetarian

From: Michael Balarama (
Subject: Rice University Veggie Club 
Date: 2003-09-13 07:47:23 PST 
A good friend of mine who owns a snack and catering business also for the
last 10 years has been the cook and facilitator of the Rice University
vegetarian club; they offer vegan and Hare Krishna is about
2 miles from my house and I stop by periodically and take footage for the
TV show I produce.  Here is a note about the first meeting (dinner) 
this new school year

Rice Veggie Club this Saturday, September 13
6:00 PM Baker Commons
Bring $2 and tupperware

If you would like to help Krishna cut veggies, reply to
and I will give you directions, otherwise a few of us will be meeting
in the Baker commons at 10:00 Saturday morning to chop veggies.

From those who consume food and assume veggie club leadership,
Arthur, Brooke, Caitlin, Ashvin, Renee, and Kristi

The Veggie Club Carol

Twas the night before Veggie Club
and all through the dorm
not a problem set unfinished,
nor a paper unformed.

The party-goers reveled and dug their new threads
while early 80's music swam through their heads
with Krishna at home and I jumping jack,
the music faded into night's soothing nap.

At daybreak following there arose such a chatter
when non and true vegetarians unite to get fatter.
Away to my computer, I flew in a dash
announcing RVC Saturday, $2.00 in cash.

Save a tree. Eat a cow. Good heavens, no!
Rather find harmony with nature like people long ago.
When, what age to my watering mouth should appear,
but the fruits of nature, and grains for beer.

Now wheat, now barley, now maize and rice,
on apples, on oranges and peaches on ice.
To distill and blend and consume it all,
drink away, gulp away not a pint too tall.

As morsels of veggies dried on my lips,
I rinsed with the sweetest juice, water from rose-hips.
The meal nearly finished with food so full,
tupperware in hand I exacted my toll.

I sprang to the leftovers, of veggies I dreamed,
leaving Baker filled with cuisine it surely seemed,
but hearing Krishna and friends exclaim, ere they drove out of sight



Short Title: VictoryMission


            A Twas the night before a Victory Mission Christmas
                      Twas the night before Christmas
                        When all through the mission
           The children and thier families were wish'n and wish'n
               For a visit from Santa and his merry old elves
              To bring toys and goodies to each of themselves.
                 'Cause for many families the table is bare
                  There's tree, no present, no one to care
                     No shining star, nobells to ring,
                 No bountiful table and no carols to sing.
                You can change this with just A little love
               Your concern and caring-a blessing from above
          When you make a donation the bightest star will glisten
        And you will hear the hoofbeats on your roof if you listen.
                 So please be a Santa on this magical night
          And your christmas will glow with the holiest of light.
   Mery Christmas and Happy New Year from Springfield Victory Mission 308
       W. Commercial Department C-3 P.O. 2884 Springfield, Mo. 65801


Short Title: Viking

   Author:   Fredrick & Ivy
   Date: 1998/12/29
   Forums: alt.fairs.renaissance
      A Viking Night Before Christmas

  'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the Hall
  Not a creature was stirring, not warrior nor thrall.
  And I in my armor, my greaves and my helm
  Was drunker than anyone else in the Realm

  I staggered upstairs and fell into bed
  While four quarts of mead were ablaze in my head.
  Then up from below came the sounds of a brawl
  So I grabbed up my axe and ran down to the Hall.

  I missed the last step and crashed down in a heap
  Thinking, "Why can't those low-lifes downstairs go to sleep!"
  When what to my wondering eyes should appear
  But two brawny strangers, wielding mallet and spear.

  I said to myself, "We'll soon have them beat!"
  Then I noticed ten warriors laid out at their feet.
  I gave out a yell and leapt into the fray.....
  I'll always regret my poor choice that day.

  For the one laid his hammer to the side of my nose
  And up, up, up to the rafters I rose.
  Then came a lone frightened voice from the floor,
  "Those are no mortal warriors -- that's Odin and Thor!"

  Then they looked at each other and they said, "Battle's done,
  Now they know who we are, it no longer is fun."
  Then Thor raised his hammer, and his elbow he bent,
  And with a loud crash, through the ceiling they went.

  I crawled through the Hall and flung open the door,
  Not really sure that I'd seen them before.
  The snow bathed in starlight, the moon like a glede,
  I saw them ride off on an eight-legged steed.

  And I heard them exclaim, 'ere they flew out of sight,

Lady Druantia aka Ivy MacDóbhran
Wench #322, Madame
Renaissance Assassins Guild #013, Smart Gothkinder and Snarky Elizagoth
Lascivious McHussy of the McHussy Triumviriate
Drucilla of Sarcastica, DemiDark Goddess of the Green Cures
Attendant and Guardian of the Sleeping Goddess
Dark Rose Armoury Groupie
Hawkwood Aficionado
The Official Corrupter to the Goddess of Innocence


Short Title: Visa(Immigration)

From: MDUdall (
Subject: MDUdall: More fluff 
Date: 1999/12/24 

Here is the new and improved version of my Christmas poem. Please feel
free to add to it as you see fit.
Matthew Udall

Twas the day before Christmas
and all across the planet
petitioners and beneficiaries
were starting to panic

"this is taking too long
who approves them…gorillas?
This cry could be heard
from Bangkok to Manila

King Wicked and Horn-boy
are shocking the readers
about tales from the Grill
and interfamily breeders

Paul and M. Udall
do hotly debate
all the issues of fraud
that will govern one’s fate

Alvena is posting,
to her pages she adds
tales of users and losers 
and insincere cads

And then there is Rita
out somewhere near Dover
who hopes hubbies greencard arrives
before hell freezes over

And Jonathan, god bless him
man of honor and fame
but he just might go postal
if you misspell his name

Than there’s Dutch, Jan, and Chesmen
Evan and Sheila too
There is Starwind, and Mike
and Lisa TooDoo

So many are out there
trying their best
to help others through
this INS mess!

"A request for more evidence"!
a reader did say
"I should have put none
and instead put n/a"

Then out from the news group
there arose such a clatter
that Doris Meisner logged on
to see what was the matter

Then the group all exclaimed
"hey INS get of your butts,
We’ve paid you our fees
and we’ve given you our trust"

"Too bad" was her answer
she gave with a snort
"Your case in not overdue
and please see the JIT report"

Than she brought out her elves
that she calls her directors
"On Novak, on Coultice
Burzynski, and Vedder"

"But we can’t telephone you"
someone called out to Vedder.
"We like it that way
so just send us a letter"

Than what to our wondering eyes
should appear,
The CIA roadblock is lifted
the road appears clear

Ms. Meisner then grimaced
and said with a frown
"Y2K’s coming
so were shutting you down"

"That’s just how it is
and I’m not going to fight,
it’s a DOS problem
take it up with Allbright"

And I heard her exclaim
as she dropped out of sight
"Have her visa in hand
before you book her a flight"

Merry Christmas one and all!


Short Title: Warhammer

Subject:      Re: More Holiday cheer [Humour, long]
From:         The Gray Family 
Date:         1997/12/17
Message-ID:   <>

PSiekier wrote:
> Such a lovely piece! I was ROTFLMAO. It's good to see someone trying his hand
> at humour (besides Tom).
> Anyway, I dredged up this old beast by Pat Marstall. It wouldn't be fair not to
> plug my web page at wherein I keep all this
> stuff.
> Merry Christmas,
> Pete Siekierski

[snip cool 'psuedo-transmission' stuff]

Yah, got this, but what about this, from the venerable PM (last years
date, you note):

            The Night Before 986996.M41

'Twas the night before 986996.M41, and all through the station
All there was clear, there was no abomination.

My helmet was set on the desk to my right,
On the chance that I was to need it that night.

The guardsmen were ensconced, asleep in their beds,
All the tanks too were safe, secure in the sheds.

Marines in the barracks, some manning the wall,
Assured me that the bastion never would fall.

When out in the yard there arose such discord
I grabbed up my bolter and unsheathed my sword.

Away to the window, I ran to take aim
As the marines around me all did the same.

My bionic eye turned the night into day
Allowed me to see, and to seek out my prey.

When what did my loyal ocular show,
But an ancient conveyance, knee-deep in the snow.

The vehicle was pulled by horned quadrupeds
And a fiery red nimbus glowed from the sled.

The driver was mighty, his eyes full of scorn,
Dressed all in crimson like a servant of Khorne.

I gestured for other to shoot without pause,
For I was now certain this was Santa Claus.

"Fire Marines! Fire Guardsmen! Fire Ogryn and Ratlings!
Fire bolters! Fire lasguns! Fire mortars and gatlings!"

"You in the courtyard and you men on the walls!
Now blast away! Blast away! Blast away all!"

But all through this maelstrom the evil one flew,
Past plasma and bolt shells and frag that we threw!

And then, to my horror, I heard on the roof
The vile cavorting of each decadent hoof.

Screaming my orders, I spun quickly around,
As down the chimney shaft it came with a bound.

I saw its eyes glow, its vast stomach gurgle,
Bloated and fat, like a deamon of Nurgle.

Blinded by anger, I attacked with a scream -
Charged into battle with my brave Space Marines.

As we thundered towards him, closing the rift,
He reached in his satchel and pulled out a gift.

Then it tossed the vile boxes - I fell in a stoop,
As they arced through the air at me and my troops.

The wrapped missiles fell short, and plopped at our feet,
Our morale was strong, we did not retreat.

But the marines paused - our charge was disrupted,
They picked up the gifts and were quickly corrupted.

For each box contained a chaotic present -
The marines (damn their souls), found them quite pleasant.

A bolter, a flamer, a new power fist,
The Claus gave to all, and he checked off a list.

It moved through the station and left in its wake,
The sound of bright laughter and the stench of fruit cake.

The others succumbed, but it failed in its goal,
For to me it gave only a small pile of coal.

The station was lost, I could only instruct
The bastion computer to set self-destruct.

I failed to kill him, for I saw as I fled,
The target escaping, quite safe in his sled.

I heard it cry out as the base burst into light,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Please reply to..


Short Title: WashingtonDC(MarionBarry)


                              A DC Christmas!
            T'was the night before christmas and all through DC,
                not a creature was stirring except Marion B.
           The streets were abandoned, while drug dealers slept,
           but the mayor in his limo, through northwest he crept.
           A silver spoon was hung from his neck with great care,
              in hopes that Charles Lewis soon would be there.
               When, all at once there arose such a clatter,
               he halted his limo to see what was the matter.
               And what, to his wondering eyes should appear,
              but a pile of white powder, a mountain of cheer.
                  He jumped from the limo, lickety split.
                   Five minutes later the mayor was lit.
               He snorted and shoveled that coke up his nose.
            His eyes were all bloodshot and glowed like a rose.
                   Back to the limo he ran like a flash.
              Now that that's gone let's go home to my stash.
                I heard him exclaim with no hint of strife,
                 I'll snort if I like, I'm mayor for life.


Short Title: WebTVUpgrade

Subject: Twas the night before the upgrade 
Date: 06/04/2000 
Author: Miss Stacia  
Newsgroup: alt.legend.the-bob
Twas the night before the upgrade, when all through the house 
Not a subscriber was stirring about not having a mouse. 
The "Power" buttons were pressed by each finger with care, 
In hopes that the upgrade soon would be there. 

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, 
While Mamma and Daddy readied to watch dirty mpegs. 
And mamma in her g-string, and her bra with a bow, 
Had just settled down for a know; 

When on my TV there arose such a clatter, 
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. 
Away to the screen I flew like a flash, 
Almost dropping my wife on her sweet little ass. 

The glow on the screen and the familiar logo 
Gave the luster of day to my wife on the flo'. 
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, 
But the latest upgrade, only late by a year. 

With a cheery little message, so lively and quick, 
"If you want the upgrade, then 'Yes' you should click." 
Slower than snails, each part it did come, 
I didn't realize yet what damage I'd done. 

Part one, and part two, and part three, and part four, 
Thought I'd fall asleep before I got any more. 
To the top of the meter, sixteen times it did go! 
Then finally the upgrade was ready to go! 

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, 
I thought I'd give the new "Messenger" a try. 
So through the tutorial my wife and I flew, 
Wondering what all "Messenger" would do. 

And then, in a twinkling, the screen did appear 
And I said, "How will you see anything behind here?" 
As I looked at my wife as I turned around, 
I knew we agreed this "dog" belonged in the pound. 

RealAudio G2 was next on my mind, 
Hoping for a feature a little more kind. 
"At, we now have a prayer!" 
Then depression set in; "Only Windows Media Player." 

It was then I began to realize the worst, 
'Cause I bought a "classic" when they came out first. 
"We got cheated on this and we missed out on that, 
Don't get me near Bruce Leak with my baseball bat." 

But I calmed down soon as I looked at my wife, 
And realized with her I've got a pretty cool life. 
'Cause every man's fantasy, and that includes you, 
Includes a woman who likes porno too. 

Nothing too wild or terribly exotic, 
Just some late night fun in "mpegs.erotic." 
The postings were many, almost double! 
This was, for me, the first sign of trouble. 

A scroll of the page and a click on a post 
Confirmed that it might be what I had feared most. 
I spoke not a word, and clicked on the link, 
And gave a look to my wife all dressed up in pink. 

Then the message came up that gave us the blues, 
"This is a type of information WebTV cannot use." 
So I sprang to my feet and ran for the door, 
Preparing to drive to the adult video store. 

The wife heard me yell, before I drove out of sight, 

found on a bathroom wall at a rest area in Kentucky


Short Title: WeekBeforeChristmasAtHome

From: Classicink (
Subject: The Week Before Christmas 
Newsgroups: rec.crafts.beads
Date: 2002-12-18 10:55:14 PST 
  Just sharing my newspaper column with you....I wrote it for fun..

The Week Before Christmas	
 by Laurie Byrne-Smith

Twas the week before Christmas and all through town,
Every creature was stirring, running uphill and down.
Nothing was hung or wrapped or purchased with care
And we all know that Santa is soon due to be there.

We hurry and scurry and try to be calm, 
We purchase dental floss and pearly lap balm
in an effort to stuff the stockings that are not hung
And if we aren't careful, we'll come all unstrung

Now Christmas was fun back when I was a kid.
I tried to be good and sweet in all that I did.
The tree was put up and trimmed by somebody else.
And Santa made the toys with the help of his elves.

I didn't know anything at all about what was the matter
To me, nothing could have raised any clatter.
Hank and I got up to a Christmas morning feast
Never knowing that mom was up all night taming that beast.

We opened packages and presents from Santa Claus
Who had filled stocking and tree space without a pause.
We thought he was grand and special and pretty cool too
We never thought that Santa was really just you.

Now, I know that Santa visits me each year 
Bringing the spirit and joy to buy Christmas cheer.
That's right, he visits and I'm glad to see the old coot
But, he sure doesn't bring me any spare loot.

So, I stirring and scurrying and running uphill and down
And I've bought one of each and every toy in town.
The grandchildren only number just four
And Lord knows I couldn't have bought any more.

So, Happy Holidays to you and all of your relations.
I must go and wrap all these toy company creations!

Sometimes, the holiday make me insane and sometimes, they make me poetic. 
This year, it seems that they have made me insanely poetic.  I've always
loved the Night Before Christmas.  And sometimes, I think that some Christmas
Eve, I will actually see those eight tiny reindeer.  But, then I often hope
that the Shoemaker's Elves will do my housework for me sometime and that
hasn't happened either!

So, dear readers, have a great holiday season.  I hope that you get to stay
home and still see everyone near and dear to your hearts.  I wish for you 75%
off sales on all the gift items you need.  And I hope that you can find some
willing teenager who will wrap everything for a small fee!  Ho, ho, Merry Christmas!


Short Title: WeekBeforeChristmasShopping

From: Rowena M Love
Sent: Sunday, December 11, 2005 1:25 PM

'Twas the Week Before Christmas

'Twas the week before Christmas and all through the land
The shoppers were stirring; department stores jammed.
The children were fretful, the mothers could weep -
Nothing's quite right; or the cost is too steep.

Could plastic cards stretch, they wanted to know -
If the answer was yes, how far would it go?
They eked out their savings, spent to the max;
Under the tree presents piled up in stacks.

It had to be perfect for they'd spent such a lot -
Would the family be pleased with the things that they'd got?
"Perfume?  Again?  Do you think that I smell?";
"Chocolates? I'm slimming! - or couldn't you tell?";

Husbands and Fathers complained about socks;
Kids threw down the toys and played with the box;
Spend what you like - you'll get precious few thanks;
The only ones laughing are the blasted banks!

Copyright Rowena M Love
Published in Reach Poetry Monthly Issue 29 December 1999


Short Title: Western(Wyoming)

Submitted by: Sara Saulcy
January 2003

Twas the Night Before Christmas
by KayCee Meyer
Published in the Saratoga Sun: December 18, 2002

Twas the night before Christmas at the Two Cow outfit,
The wind was a blowin' and the snow wouldn't quit.
The cowboys in bedrolls all dreamed with high hopes,
For Santy to bring them new pickups, saddles and ropes.

When down in the corral the cows started ballin',
Punchers jumped from their bunks, there's no time for stallin'.
They ran to the pens only to find,
A team of draft horses with buckboard behind.

The driver wore red long handles and a ole cowboy lid,
He was shoutin' commands like callin' a bid.
"Whoa, Sam!  Step up, Joe!  Slow down Fred!"
"When I pull on these lines that means halt, Ed!"

The horses brought the wagon to a sliding stop,
And off of that sleigh old Santy did hop.
He was short and his chaps drug the ground,
He nodded and smiled his belly was round.

The wagon of goodies was filled with new tack,
And old Santy was haulin' a border collie pack.
The hands started pickin' puppies, a new saddle for the boss,
He even passed out five pounds of oats for each hoss.

He weren't much for words, just brining presents thru,
But he put a smile on the whole durn crew.
He climbed in the wagon, his eyes looking weary,
He grabbed the reins and headed them horses back cross the prairie.

In his auctioneer voice he called the team up,
"Come on you ole nags … what's the dang holdup?"
The cowboys stood there smiling and holding their loot,
And they hollered "Merry Christmas" to the crazy ole coot.

Ringing out a loud voice as the wagon rolled out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!"


Short Title: WhiteTrash

Submitted by: Molly Folds

T'wuz the nite 'fore Christmuss
An' all through the trailer-house
Nary a creature wuz a' stirrin'
Not even a common-law spouse.

Them tube socks wuz hung
By the butane heater with care
In hopes that ol' Santy Claws
Would drop some SKOAL in there. 

When alla sudden out onna porch 
There arised such a loud clatter
I grabbed my baseball bat an' flashlight
An' yelled, "What the hayull's the matter?!?"

When what to my bloodshot eyes
Should appear...
Butt a '77 Chevy Pickup
Pulled by eight whitetail deer!

On Odell! On Dewey!
On Buford and Dub!
On Cletus! On Bobby Joe!
On Emmett and Bub!

To the top o' the trailer house!
To the top o' the wall!
Get this dang truck a' movin'
Or I'll make chikkin' fried steak o' you all!

With a lil' ol' driver
As mad as heck and ticked
I knowed in a moment
He wuzn't used to drivin' inna sticks!

He had a flabby fat belly
An' a bottle o' gin
He wuz cussin' an' spittin' tobakey
While it dribbled down his furry chin.

It wuz then that I realized
"Dang! It's still deer season!"
So I grabbed my fave-o-rite rifle
To shoot me some venisen!

I aimed fer the big 'un
With the 16 point rack
Butt I missed my dern target
And got Santy in the back!

He grabbed his lard butt
An' ran inna woods yellin'
An' he ain't been seen since
(This ain't no lie that I'm tellin'!)

Altho' I had my heart set
On eatin' some deer jerky
I let them lil' critters go
An' settled fer a Butterball turkey.

The marble o' this story is...
On Chrismas Eve, if'n ya hear a peep...
Put yore piller over yore head
An' jest go back to sleep!

Copyrighted by Molly Folds. 2001


Short Title: WifeDreamGifts


                       Twas the night before Gift giving
         'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
               I was standing and thinking, "My man is a louse!"
            No packages in the stockings, no gifts under the tree,
               "What's the matter with him, doesn't he love me?"
               When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
                I ran to my window to see what was the matter.
                 When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
           It was Santa holding gifts and grinning from ear to ear!
  I heard him proudly exclaim, "This year, to your prayers he didn't listen,
       I have brought you all beautiful gifts that shimmer and glisten."
             Strewn on the lawn from my neighbor's house to mine,
      Were baubles and jewels and pretties from Santa's North Pole Line.
        As he headed towards home, with my gifts strewn over the land,
                He turned to me slowly with advice for my man.
             "Now, remember, each year, gift-giving can get worse.
         Avoid disappointment, have him ask you what you want first!"


Matthew Monroe in Richland, WA

Last Modified January 7, 2007