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sexyeyes
Club Banga
Joined: 13 Sep 2006
Posts: 980
Bank: CD
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2081 DP
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 Posted: Wed Dec 17, 2008 9:28 pm Post subject:
 Twas The Nite Before Christmas |
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For Floridians 
| Quote: | T'was the night before Christmas and all through the town,
no noses were frozen, no snow fluttered down,
no children in flannels were tucked into bed,
they all wore shorty pajamas instead.
To find wreaths of holly, t'was not very hard,
for holly trees grew in every back yard.
In front of the houses, Dads and Moms were
adorning the bushes and coconut palms.
The sleeping kiddies were dreaming in glee,
hoping to find water skis under the tree.
They all knew that Santa was well on his way,
in a Mercedes-Benz, instead of a sleigh.
And soon he arrived and started to work,
he hadn't a second to linger or shirk.
He whizzed up the highways and zoomed up the road,
in a S-L 300, delivering his loads.
The tropical moon gave the city a glow,
and lighted the way for old Santa below.
As he jumped from the auto he gave a wee chuckle,
he was dressed in Bermudas with an Ivy league buckle,
There weren't any chimneys, but that caused no gloom,
for Santa came in through the Florida room.
He stopped at each house....stayed only a minute,
emptying his sack of stuff that was in it.
Before he departed, he treated himself
to a glass of papaya juice upon the shelf.
He turned with a jerk and bounced to the car,
remembering he still had to go very far.
He shifted the gears and stepped on the gas
and up I-95 he went like a flash.
And I heard him exclaim as he went on his way,
"Merry Christmas Y'all, I wish I could stay!" |
 some days I miss living in the state of Florida, some days I don't |
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Spider-Man
Out All Night
Joined: 06 Nov 2006
Posts: 513
Bank: CD
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| Posted: Thu Dec 18, 2008 6:23 pm Post subject:
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I can top that.
A Worm Quartet Christmas (sounds even better over narration):
| Quote: |
T'was the night before popestink, and all through the goat
The croutons were twirling like tits on a boat
The scarves of young bellhops were basted in phlegm
In the hopes that Tom Brokaw would grow on a stem
The milkman was throbbing and glaring at clamps
While erstwhile gophers molested his lamps
And I and my carrot that made me lick spheres
Were spanking a nun underwater at Sears
When out in the beefhole a Frenchman was squirted
And clanged with such force that my nipples inverted
With ponies and catheters chained to my nose,
I neutered a biscuit and swallowed my clothes
The clams in my waitress demanded more towels
As poodle-clad jockeys read porn scripts to owls
And there, on the perfectly boneless horizon
A vomiting duck made me switch to Verizon
The voice of my thermostat cut through the night
Like a fat Presbyterian licking a kite
It promised me hampers of mayonnaise and sorrow
And belched like a barnacle baptized by Charo
"On kiwis! On forklifts! On poultry and nipples!
"On youppers! On poopers! On commies and cripples!
"To the nostril of glee! To the concubine planet!
"Now Marmaduke, Marmaduke, Marmaduke, dammit!"
As elk-flavored media gargled in pain
Like a murderous thermos of pork in the rain
Then the constable pudding that lived in my basement
Birthed forth manifestos on bovine replacement
And then, like the screech of a bucket of toast
When a rectal kaleidoscope comes in the post,
A warm feathered hat made of anger and meat
Threw a cat through my face and glued fame to my feet
The porcelain lullabies bled through the cheese
As fiberglass embryos marched by in threes
Gelatinous oven mitts nibbled my back
Like toenails and mayonnaise mixed in a sack
Bouquets of gay trapezoids buttered a cop
While Spaniards and circuity bred in a mop
And the thuderous anthem of blackheads in June
Destroyed mice with the Q-tip that pooped on your spoon
As pompadour-polishers piddled a prayer
And sodomy-nuggets sewed poems to a bear
Electric aristrocrats rendered in fleece
All the vestibule-wrestling pogo police
With a cuddly anvil held tight to my butt
I deflated a taco and called it a slut
The parmesan poodleclock puckered in pain
Like a puddle-clad henwipe ingesting a train
Testicular tomahawks burned through the beans
As the omelette capacitors strangled their spleens
Because spaying a turnip may tickle a tank,
But the sex you can bake is the milk you can spank
A barnacle cocktail ate birds in a maze
And the diaper repairmen prescribed Dijonnaise
But I heard him exclaim, as he gargled his arm,
"I farm where I romp, and I romp where I farm!" |
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