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| Twas The Night...-why did I stop there? |
| Categor |
Miscellaneous |
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197 |
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| The Joke |
| Twas the night before ChristmasAnd all through the houseThere were empties and buttsLeft around by some louse.And the best quart I'd hidBy the chimney with careHad been swiped by some creepWho'd discovered it there!Our hung-over guestsHad been poured into bed(They'll wake in the mornWith a God-awful head)My tongue, cotton-coated,Hung down to my beltAnd only the seasickCould know how I felt!My wife - she had long agoGone up to bedWhile visions of RedskinsDanced in her head.And I in the parlorSat all alone,I'd unplugged the catAnd put out the phone.Just then, through a windowCame noise and smellsLike an overturned beer truckAnd tinkle of bells!I sprang from my chairTo see what was the matterTo see what was causingThe smell and the clatter.When what to my wonderingEyes did appearBut eight drunken reindeerAnd sled full of beer!With a little old driver,Nose red as a brick,I knew it was SantaAs tight as a tick!Weaving upward and downwardHis reindeer they cameWhile he hiccoughed and burpedAnd called them by name:"On Gallo! On Ripple!We ain't got all night!You, too, Manischevitz!And you, Miller lite!"Ho Bud! Easy, Boh!Give Busch there a hand!Now now, Lowenbrau -You can go when we land!Head up for that roof --Watch out for the wall!Get going, you guysWe've got a long haul!"So up to my roofWent his reindeer and sledBut my TV antennaHit him right in the head!And then in a twinklingI heard Santa swearSo hot that it meltedThe snow everywhere!I could tell in a momentThis guy had no classFor he fell down my chimneyRight smack on his sack!He was dresed all in furFrom his head to his toes.Red were his eyeballs,His coat and his nose.He had a round faceAnd toy-filled sackHis breath would have blownA freight off the track!He was chubby and plumpAnd he tried to stand rightBut he couldn't fool me -He was high as a kite!He spoke not a wordBut went straight to his workAnd missed half the stockings,The plastered old jerk!Then putting five fingersTo the end of his noseHe gave me the wordAs up the chimney he rose.Crossing my rooftopHe went at a runNot seeing what oneOf his reindeer had done.He skidded, and thenFell flat on his face!His remarks after thisWere a total disgrace!Then he got in his sledAnd I heard Santa moan:"Why did I stop there?Bux's kids are all grown!" |
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