Cultural Appropriation!
Posted: Thu Dec 24, 2015 3:31 pm'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Sanctorum
Not a creature was stirring, no one checking the forum;
The stockings were placed on the floorboards most bare,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Star Wars spoilers danc'd in their heads,
And with Samurai in his 'kerchief, and I in the nude,
We had just settled our brains for a long winter snooze —
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 The Flash,
Tore open the shutters, but threw up on the sash!
The moon looked like breasts on the new fallen snow,
And I spied Cain committing the Sin of Onan below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should resolve,
But a miniature Chevy Tahoe, and eight tiny BOBs!
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Phant, that prick.
More trundling than beagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and call'd them by name:
"Now! Ahab, now! BlackMage, now! Katawa, Xaenyth!
"On! JT, on! Guido, on! Perry and Darlid;
"To the top of the board! To the top of New Posts!
"Now flame away! Gnash away! Bash away all!"
As dry weed that, before the wild fan gust does fly
When you're too stoned to stop it, mounts to the sky;
So up to the URL his coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys — and Phantomgrift too:
And then in a twinkling, I thought that I heard
The prancing and pawing of each little nerd.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Phantomgrift came with a bound!
He was dress'd all in shit, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes looked like something you'd smash with a boot;
A bundle of toys was flung on his back,
And he look'd like dumbass, his jaw hanging slack:
His eyes — how they roiled! But his dimples: so merry!
His cheeks were like mushrooms, his nose a dingleberry;
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a sneer,
I knew in that moment I'd be needing a beer;
The stump of a liberal he held tight in his teeth,
And the Trump poster he wore on his head like a wreath,
Made me recognize this self-styled Modern Machiavelli
For the joke that he was, with his aging old belly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly jack-off,
And I laugh'd when I saw him in spite of my cough;
But the cock of his gun and his obsession with lead
Reminded me that crazy is still something to dread.
He spoke not a word, he went straight to his work,
But fumbled like prom night, that clumsy old jerk,
And spilling his shells 'neath my sofa and stove
He immediately gave up, and out the window he dove.
He sloughed to his Chevy, while Cain still was jerkin',
And away they all flummoxed, as I refilled my bourbon:
But I heard him exclaim, when the cops pulled into sight —
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night."
Not a creature was stirring, no one checking the forum;
The stockings were placed on the floorboards most bare,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Star Wars spoilers danc'd in their heads,
And with Samurai in his 'kerchief, and I in the nude,
We had just settled our brains for a long winter snooze —
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 The Flash,
Tore open the shutters, but threw up on the sash!
The moon looked like breasts on the new fallen snow,
And I spied Cain committing the Sin of Onan below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should resolve,
But a miniature Chevy Tahoe, and eight tiny BOBs!
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Phant, that prick.
More trundling than beagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and call'd them by name:
"Now! Ahab, now! BlackMage, now! Katawa, Xaenyth!
"On! JT, on! Guido, on! Perry and Darlid;
"To the top of the board! To the top of New Posts!
"Now flame away! Gnash away! Bash away all!"
As dry weed that, before the wild fan gust does fly
When you're too stoned to stop it, mounts to the sky;
So up to the URL his coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys — and Phantomgrift too:
And then in a twinkling, I thought that I heard
The prancing and pawing of each little nerd.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Phantomgrift came with a bound!
He was dress'd all in shit, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes looked like something you'd smash with a boot;
A bundle of toys was flung on his back,
And he look'd like dumbass, his jaw hanging slack:
His eyes — how they roiled! But his dimples: so merry!
His cheeks were like mushrooms, his nose a dingleberry;
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a sneer,
I knew in that moment I'd be needing a beer;
The stump of a liberal he held tight in his teeth,
And the Trump poster he wore on his head like a wreath,
Made me recognize this self-styled Modern Machiavelli
For the joke that he was, with his aging old belly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly jack-off,
And I laugh'd when I saw him in spite of my cough;
But the cock of his gun and his obsession with lead
Reminded me that crazy is still something to dread.
He spoke not a word, he went straight to his work,
But fumbled like prom night, that clumsy old jerk,
And spilling his shells 'neath my sofa and stove
He immediately gave up, and out the window he dove.
He sloughed to his Chevy, while Cain still was jerkin',
And away they all flummoxed, as I refilled my bourbon:
But I heard him exclaim, when the cops pulled into sight —
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night."
