Twas the night

I originally wrote this for last Christmas back during the pre-blog era, I re-release it now with some addendums...enjoy!!!

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, I had not finished wrapping, and was starting to grouse.

Shits, and goddamits, echoed down the hall, till finally an "Aw fuck it!" could be heard by all.

"I've braved the malls, and the big box stores, then I wrap all this crap so it can be shoved into drawers!"

People are generally polite and always say thank you, when inside they think "a sweater vest? pee-u"

We have been taught that all our problems, all of our ills, can be solved by presents, then we wait for the bills.

Holidays host family drama, with tension on tap, yet it can all be smoothed over with Chinese-made crap.

Yes, the Christmas spirit was dying little by little, and my grip on sanity was indeed very brittle.

Then suddenly outside there was a huge bang, I scampered to the window half expecting something with a fang.

Clad head to toe in leather with a Newport ready to flick, the person in front of me was in fact...Dick!

As he stood in the door I asked of his cheer, then he said "it's Christmas mother fucker, now where's my damn beer!"

Dick had become Santa's right hand man, yet because of his perennial naughtyness we never knew he was a fan.

With ale in hand I inquired of St. Nick, to which he replied "fucker crashed his sled into a house made of
brick"

We rushed to the scene hoping that we could do well, only to find a mangled Pere Noel

Santa's sleigh had crashed and things looked black, for the only thing that survived was an empty bottle of Jack.

However amongst all the gore and reindeer coated in lice, we managed to salvage a list of naughty and nice.

The bad list was long and it was easy to see, that the list was much bigger than it had been previously.

We perused the spreadsheet, and looked between the bars, noting that to Kerri's name was affixed five whole stars.

It was clear that Santa watches us each and every night, Ginesa's name was there and it was even spelled right.

Further down the list we found Will's name too, something about watching a midget eat a big pile of poo.

Ed had been very bad, this was plain to see, Santa had just laughed while he begged on bended knee.

And to my shock I saw my name as well, because according to Santa all heathen liberals go to Hell.

Skippy was good and it was not clear why, though we had always suspected he was some sort of spy.

Santa's replacement came down in a flash, and while watching him carefully Dick and I hid our stash.

He looked us over and knew we were up to no good, but his schedule was tight and this was after all, the hood.

As he raced into the night we knew he would never fully glean, the joy of having a list of every bad girl aged eighteen.