Twas the Night before Christmas…

A few different versions… 

T’was the night before Christmas – Old Santa was pissed 
He cussed out the elves and threw down his list 
Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks 
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works 
I’ve busted my ass for damn near a year 
Instead of “Thanks Santa” – what do I hear 
The old lady bitches cause I work late at night 
The elves want more money – The reindeer all fight 
Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids 
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS 
And just when I thought that things would get better 
Those assholes from IRS sent me a letter 
They say I owe taxes – if that ain’t damn funny 
Who the hell ever sent Santa Clause any money 
And the kids these days – they all are the pits 
They want the impossible …Those mean little shits 
I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds Assembling dolls…Their arms, 
legs and heads I made tons of yo yo’s – No request for them They want 
computers and robots…they think I’m IBM! 
If you think that’s bad…just picture this 
Try holding those brats…with their pants full of piss 
They pull on my nose – they grab at my beard 
And if I don’t smile…their moms think I’m weird 
Flying through the air…dodging the trees 
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees 
I’m quitting this job…there’s just no enjoyment 
I’ll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment 
There’s no Christmas this year…now you know the reason 
 I found me a blonde.. I’m going SOUTH for the season!! 

A Different Santa Clause Story 
 ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat 
 The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat 
 The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook 
 It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook. 
 Momma in her teddy, and I in the nude 
 Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube 
 When out on the lawn there arose such a cry, 
 That I lost my boner and poor momma went dry. 
 Up to the window I sprang like an elf, 
 Tore back the shade while she played with herself. 
 The moon on the crest of the snowman we’d built, 
 Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt. 
 When what to my wondering eyes should appear, 
 But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer. 
 With a fat little driver, half out of his sled, 
 A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head. 
 Sure as I’m speaking, he was as high as a kite. 
 And he yelled to his team, but it didn’t sound right. 
 Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz, 
 Either slow down this rig or I’ll cut off your nuts. 
 Look out for the lamp post, and don’t hit the tree, 
 Quit shaking the sleigh, ’cause I gotta go pee. 
 They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub, 
 Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub. 
 And then from the roof we heard such a clatter, 
 As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder. 
 I was donning my jacket to cover my ass, 
 When down the chimney Santa came with a crash. 
 His suit was all smelly with perfume galore, 
 He lookd like a bum and he smelled like a whore. 
 “That was some brothel,” he said with a smile, 
 “The reindeer are pooped, and I’ll just stay here awhile. 
 He walked to the kitchen, himself poured a drink, 
 Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink. 
 I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee, 
 The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee. 
 Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack, 
 But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed. 
 The first thing he found was a pair of false tits, 
 The next was a handgun with a penis that spits. 
 A box filled with condoms was Santa’s next find, 
 And a six pair of panties, the edible kind. 
 A bra without nipples, a penis extension, 
 And several other things that I shouldn’t even mention. 
 A cock ring, a G-string, and all types of oil, 
 A dildo so long, it lay in a coil. 
 “This stuff ain’t for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit, 
 So I’ll leave ’em here, and then I’ll just split.” 
 He filled every stocking and then took his leave, 
 With one tiny butt plug tucked under his sleeve. 
 He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead, 
 Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead. 
 In time he was seated, took the reins of his hitch, 
 Saying, “Take me home Rudolph, this night’s been a bitch!” 
 The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout, 
 “The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!” 

Twas the Night Before Christmas in Yonkers 
   ‘Twas the night before Christmas, 
    Da whole house was mella, 
    Not a creature was stirrin’, 
    Cuz I had a gun unda da pilla. 

    When up on da roof 
    I heard somethin’ pound, 
    I sprung to da window, 
    To scream, “YO! Keep it down!” 
    When what to my 
    Wanderin’ eyes should appear, 
    But da Don of all elfs, 
    And eight friggin’ reindeer! 
    Wit’ slicked back black hair, 
    And a silk red suit, 
    Don Christopher wuz here, 
    And he brought da loot! 
    Wit’ a slap to dare snouts, 
    And a yank on dare manes, 
    He cursed and he shouted, 
    And he called dem by name. 
   “Yo Tony, Yo Frankie, 
    Yo Vinny, Yo Vito, 
    Ay Joey, Ay Paulie, 
    Ay Pepe, Ay Guido!” 
    As I drew out my gun 
    And hid by da bed, 
    He flew troo da winda 
    And slapped me up side da head. 
    “What da hell you doin’ 
    Pullin’ a gun on da Don? 
    Now all you’re gettin’ is coal, 
    You friggin’ moron!” 
    Den pointin’ a fat finga 
    Right unda my nose, 
    He twisted his pinky ring, 
    And up da chimney he rose. 
    He sprang to his sleigh, 
    Obscenities screamin’, 
    Away dey all flew, 
    Before he troo dem a beatin’. 
    Den I heard him yell out, 
    Two, tree times, I expect 
    “Merry Friggin’ Christmas to all, 
    And you’s better show some respect! 

I was told this one was written by some language students at Howard University back in the late 90s… 

  Wuz de nite befo Crimmus; 
  And all ower da hood; 
  ereybody wuz’ sleepin’; 
  Dey wuz sleepin’ good. 
  We hunged up our stockings; 
  An hoped like de’ heck; 
  That old Santa Clause; 
  Be bringin’ our check. 
  All o’de fambily; 
  Wuz layin in de beds; 
  While Ripple and Thunderbird; 
  Danced through dey heads. 
  I passed out inna’ flo; 
  Right nex to my Maw; 
  When I heard sech a fuss; 
  I thunk: “It mus be de law!!!” 
  I looked out thru de bars; 
  What covered my doe; 
  ‘spectin’ de sheriff; 
  Wif a warrent fo sho. 
  And what did I see; 
  I said, “Lawd look at dat!!” 
  Ther’ wuz a huge watermellon; 
  Pulled by giant warf rats!! 
  Now ober all de years; 
  Santa Clause, he be white; 
  But looks liken us bros; 
  Gets a black Sanna dis nite. 
  Faster dan a Po’lees car; 
  My home boy he came; 
  He whupped on dem warf rats; 
  An’ called dem by name! 
  On Leroy, on ‘Lonzo ; 
  And on Willie Lee; 
  On Saphire, on Chenequa; 
  Dey wuz a site to see!! 
  As he landed dat watta’ mellon; 
  Out der in da skreet; 
  I knowed it was fo’ sho’; 
  Da damndest site I ebber did see. 
  He didn’t go down no chimbley; 
  He picked da’ lock on my doe; 
  An’ I sez to myself; 
  “S**t!! He done dis befoe!!!” 
  He had dis big bag; 
  Full of prezents I ‘xpect; 
  Wid Air Jordans and fake gold; 
  To wear roun’ my neck. 
  But he left no good prezents; 
  Jus started stealing my shit; 
  Got my drugs, got my guns, 
  Even got my burglar’s kit!! 
  Wit my stuff in de bag; 
  Out da window he flewed; 
  I woudda’ tried to catched him; 
  But he stoled my ‘nife too!! 
  He jumped on dat wadda’ mellon; 
  An’ whipped out a switch; 
  He wuz gone in a seccon’; 
  Dat son of a bitch!! 
  Next year I be hopin’: 
  Anutha Sanna we git; 
  Cuz’ diz here Sanna Clause; 
  Jus’ ain’t werf a s**t 

And this one is for the troops…

Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone 
  In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone 
  I had come down the chimney with presents to give 
  And to see just who in this home did live 
  I looked all about, a strange sight I did see 
  No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree 
  No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand 
  On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands 
  With medals and badges, awards of all kinds 
  A sober thought did come through my mind 
  For this house was different, it was dark and dreary 
  I found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly 
  The soldier lay sleeping, silent and alone 
  Curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home 
  The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder 
  Not how I pictured a United States soldier 
  Was this the hero of whom I’d just read? 
  Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed? 
  I realized the families that I saw this night 
  Owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight 
  Soon round the world, the children would play 
  And grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day 
  They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year 
  Because of the soldiers, like the one lying here 
  I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone 
  On a cold Christmas eve in a land far from home 
  The very thought brought a tear to my eye 
  I dropped to my knees and started to cry 
  The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice 
  Santa don’t cry, this life is my choice 
  I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more 
  My life is my God, my Country, my Corps 
  The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep 
  I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep 
  I kept watch for hours, so silent and still 
  And we both shivered from the cold nights chill 
  I didn’t want to leave on that cold, dark, night 
  This guardian of honor so willing to fight 
  Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure 
  Whispered Carry on Santa, all is secure 
  One look at my watch and I knew he was right 
  Merry Christmas, my friend, and to all a good night 
  By:  Major Bruce Lovely, adopted from a similar poem 
  by Anonymous.


Twas the Night before Christmas… — 14 Comments

  1. I’m going to pour another round of Christmas Cheer and read them one more time.

  2. That was a good laugh, except for the last one. Our troops are out there for real and we are safer because of it. Thanks guys and gals!

  3. Congrats. You’ve managed to offend just about every special interest group around … FTITCTAJ.

    Have an eggnog on me.

  4. Yeah, you win the interwebs for the day.

    The military one is always my favorite, but then again I am a bit biased

  5. Kwanzaa Claus gonna git you for that one there. Best watch out or your truck window gonna get busted out again.

    Merry Chrsitmas!