T'was The Night Before Christmas by Craig Wettner
I always felt the old poem T'was the Night Before Christmas was creepy as hell. Fuck, just the idea of a fat man entering your house without your permission is odd to me. I was one of those "thinking" kids, who figured out quickly that a man would have to fly faster than Superman to be able to visit all the boys and girls in the world. I did some simple math (not my strong suit) and was able to deduce that Santa would have to be lubed up immensely to withstand the friction caused by flying faster than the speed of light.
My parents, desperate to keep the childlike wonderment alive, said that some people don't celebrate Christmas, some kids were bad, and with different time zones, it WAS possible for him to visit all the good boys and girls. I didn't buy it and ran into school to tell all the kids it was impossible for Santa to exist. Yes, I was beat up for that assertion, but it wasn't anything Galleo didn't suffer through for his correct belief.
Back onto the topic at hand, I re-wrote T'was the Night Before Christmas for a sixth grade class and recently unearthed it while going through some old boxes at my parents house. I received a failing grade, but I will tell you this, my rhyme scheme was SOLID and my syllables per line are dead-on. I failed because my poem was not a re-working of the story, but a completely new story with parts plagiarized from the original. Damn it Mrs. White I was thinking outside the box you old twat. Anyway, here was my sixth grade version of T'was the Night Before Christmas.
My parents, desperate to keep the childlike wonderment alive, said that some people don't celebrate Christmas, some kids were bad, and with different time zones, it WAS possible for him to visit all the good boys and girls. I didn't buy it and ran into school to tell all the kids it was impossible for Santa to exist. Yes, I was beat up for that assertion, but it wasn't anything Galleo didn't suffer through for his correct belief.
Back onto the topic at hand, I re-wrote T'was the Night Before Christmas for a sixth grade class and recently unearthed it while going through some old boxes at my parents house. I received a failing grade, but I will tell you this, my rhyme scheme was SOLID and my syllables per line are dead-on. I failed because my poem was not a re-working of the story, but a completely new story with parts plagiarized from the original. Damn it Mrs. White I was thinking outside the box you old twat. Anyway, here was my sixth grade version of T'was the Night Before Christmas.
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.
Stockings were on my mom as she wait by the fire
In the hopes St.Dick would not be known as a liar
I was nestled all snug in my bed, not asleep
For I knew some man paid dad to screw momma deep
Dad told mom to wear her sexiest Xmas outfit
He then said "God dear you're going to get split"
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from the 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 one man with hobo clothes with his face unclear
Out walks a little old man, haggard and sick
I knew in a moment, it must be St. Dick
He knocked twice on the door alerting my rents
His first duty upon entrance, he paid dad in cents
Now dash, now dance, now prance, my vixen the man said
This will be better than the one time in that shed
Now remove my pants woman and get me erect
Who was this man and why does he not have respect?
As the fire crackled I attempt to locate dad
I find him across the room only in briefs of plaid
Mom swims and dances in the room where I open gifts
The man gets more comfortable as his weight shifts
Dad begins to mom and the man and rub his crotch
Silence is broken when the man asks for some scotch
Dad leaves the room as mom begins to kneel
The man pulls her hair back and kicks my stuffed fur seal
Mom then begins to lick the man's meaty tool
Oh yea baby he groans I like when you drool
I think "where's dad he will stop this for sure"
I just don't understand perhaps too immature
Dad comes into the room with the man's scotch in hand
Dad sets down the drink and grabs mom's mammary gland
The man begins to push his tool into mom's mouth
As I stand there bewildered, dad works his way south
The stump of the man's pipe, mom held in her teeth
Her lips encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he came, like a bowlful of jelly!
A mouthful of cum, mom turns to dad seductively.
The man regains strength to instruct constructively.
The strangers cum leaks from mom's mouth into dad's.
Oh the horror, I can only mouth "my god egads!"
The man sprang to his sleigh and gave mom a whistle
Mom and dad smiled as mom went down on dad's missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight
Thanks for the blowjob and to all a good night.
This is the most awesome poem ever.
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u should read dis in 1 of does books dat record ya voice funny man
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