Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the houseNot a Meathead was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Santa soon would be there.
The rug rats were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Home Made Snow danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long bloggers’s nap.
When out near the snow maker 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 fell on my ass.
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 a tangled up sleigh, and eight angry reindeer.
With a livid old driver, all covered in snow,
I knew in a moment it was St. Nick - Oh no!
More pissed off than snakes, his coursers they came,
The Elf Meathead whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on Donner and Blitzen!
Untangle yourself from that snow maker hose! Please hurry and get your ass out of that snow!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away now!"
They shook off the snow, the compressed air, and water,
and finally took off which was still quite a bother.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and the Fat Meathead too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The stamping and pawing of sixteen angry hooves.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney the mad Meathead came with a bound.
He was dressed in wet fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all covered with ice and with soot.
The bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
Were snow covered and smashed, a really sad sack.
His eyes-how they squinted! his dimples no fun!
His cheeks were like roses, from the spraying snow gun!
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a scowl,
And he looked over at me and said go get me a towel.
The stump of a pipe was all smashed in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a great big beer belly,
That shook when he toweled off, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, one pissed off old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A twinkle in his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had something to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
he poured a bucket of poo on the floor like a jerk .
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He shuffled to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, deer poop raining down like a missile!
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, never make snow on this night!"
I gave him the bird as he flew to the right
and hollered I AM WACKY DAD, AND WILL MAKE SNOW JUST TO SPITE!!!!
MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM ALL IN THE WACKY DAD HOUSEHOLD!
rhode island snow
