Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
That's because I run a clean house and eradicate ALL vermin ON SIGHT.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
I've been out shopping in crowded malls searching high and low for the perfect presents for you … and HE gets all the credit?!
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
By 'sugar-plums' do you mean expensive toys? Because I seriously can't imagine any kid in this day and age dreaming about fruit.
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
Um, yeah, coooooourse we had. Her in her 'kerchief (WTF?) and me in my cap? Sounds like some festive dress-up fun, methinks!
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Sexily tripping over my trousers in the process.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
Um, WTF is a sash, and why am I throwing it up? Did I eat it?
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Heh heh. Breast.
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
Am I still naked or am I wearing the sash? Because I'm suddenly very conscious of my 'objects below.'
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
I think it's obvious now that the wife slipped me some festive roofies.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
Or a pervert come to murder us in our sleep.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
Should've slowed down a bit then.
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
They sound like strippers.
*Adjusts sash and adopts sexy grin*
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
Strippers come back! Don't dash away all - I'm wearing a festive sash for you!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
I'm sorry, that just *doesn't* make sense. It's total word soup. Either that or the roofies are seriously kicking in.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
Why the hell did they land on my lawn first? Was it just for a toilet break? Did Prancer poop? Why you…!
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
I think this is where I should be picking up a heavy object - like a baseball bat or something.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
And instinctively I whacked him in the face with the bat.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
Quick - someone call PETA.
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
From when he'd no doubt burnt his previous victims to destroy the evidence!
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
Now the word 'peddler' just makes him sound like a filthy old pervert in this day and age, doesn't it?
His eyes - how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
In other words: drunk.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
Flecked with blood, no doubt.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
Or rather what's left of them after he ate bat!
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
Call the cops - he's smoking wacky baccy in my living room.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
Oh my, we are painting a pretty picture here, aren't we?
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
Because I totally knew I could take him in a fight.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
Because by wrenching his neck I could sever his head (I've seen how they do it in the movies).
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
'A jerk'? Um, seriously, I'm not going anywhere near *that*. He better clean it up.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
I told you he was high.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
WHAT. THE. HELL?!
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
*Waves baseball bat*
Be gone, pervert! Now, where was my wife…
*Re-adjusts sash*
-----
Happy Christmas to you all, dear friends and readers - eat, drink, and be merry!
12 comments:
Sexily tripping over my trousers in the process. * sigh * As if you could do anything non-sexily.
Wait a minute... Wife? Wife? WIFE!?! When the hells did this happen?!? There would have been some objecting if I'd been invited to the wedding, let me tell you.
* seethes in fury *
* reigns self in somewhat *
An a happy christmas to you too, Tim!
How could it not be, with the image of you in nothing but a sash!
Happy Christmas Tim-Tams!
Inexplicable Device - Yes, I've been meaning to say … me and theoretical secretary got it together!
Merry Christmas to you too!
Cyberpete - It's my Christmas present to you!
Congratulations on escaping the clutches of IVD.
And a merry Christmas to you, Tim.
And to you too, lovely MJ!
A most Happy Christmas, Tim... I certainly like the image of you in just a sash that is dancing in my head! tee hee!!!
And a most merry of Christmasses to you too, saucy Ponita!
Much appreciated.
Hope someone stuffed your stocking good and proper
hahah! that was nice! xx merry xmas.
Cyberpete - Glad to oblige at this most festive of times! And yes, my stockings were fit to bursting!
Wordless Words - And a very Merry Christmas to you too, my dear!
Now this was funny, thanks for the Christmas laugh! I hope you had a wonderful holiday!!
But wait, doesn't everyone where a kerchief to bed?
*Sheepishly hides her fuchsia-colored kerchief from sight*
Tara - Have you got 'kerchief shame to share with the group…?
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