chips*dad
Upstanding Member
The Night Before Christmas, Hobby-Style…
With Profound Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore (1779 – 1863)
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even jaywings, that louse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes their redemptions soon would be there;
The boardies were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of one-of-ones danced in their heads;
And Prime in Kings’ do-rag, and jersmi in cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Meth68 sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Vin stumbled to his knees, opening a gash;
More drunk than hung over, his head didn’t just hurt,
Not sure what was worse – his queasy gut or Quincy’s shirt.
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, no taller than a duck,
He knew in a moment it must be Alamopuck.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
Now, suitman! now, crankshaft! Now, langway and kdema!
On, leafschick! On mathomet! On, winnie and stevesinger!
Screw Upper Deck! Customer Service and all!
Trade me your gamers, trade me them all!
His attention diverted, the sleigh went awry,
And before he could help it, fell down from the sky;
All the for best, most all would agree,
’Cause jolly St. Nick awaited with glee.
Seems alamopuck had jacked the red sled,
When Santa saw fit to rest, and get fed.
He struck him with lefts, he struck him with rights,
The reindeer applauded and cheered: “outa sight!”
Santa mounted the sleigh and grabbed tight the reigns,
It was time to take flight and play reindeer games!
To will-411’s, aaronlo’s, vintagehky’s too;
PenaltyMan, Megatron, don’t forget sacrebleu.
Donrobertson, Mgiuseffi, imagoalie, and ferris,
MichaelDoyle, danvincent and then there’s the rest of us;
If you’ve read to this point and don’t see your name,
It’s more about syllables than it is based on blame;
You can see I’m no poet, and I already knew it;
But the harder I tried, the more that I blew it;
To all who’ve been good traders, and all who have tried,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all the terrific people I’ve encountered here over the past few years. And, obviously, all of the above, weak though it may be, is meant in good fun.
With Profound Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore (1779 – 1863)
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even jaywings, that louse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes their redemptions soon would be there;
The boardies were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of one-of-ones danced in their heads;
And Prime in Kings’ do-rag, and jersmi in cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Meth68 sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Vin stumbled to his knees, opening a gash;
More drunk than hung over, his head didn’t just hurt,
Not sure what was worse – his queasy gut or Quincy’s shirt.
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, no taller than a duck,
He knew in a moment it must be Alamopuck.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
Now, suitman! now, crankshaft! Now, langway and kdema!
On, leafschick! On mathomet! On, winnie and stevesinger!
Screw Upper Deck! Customer Service and all!
Trade me your gamers, trade me them all!
His attention diverted, the sleigh went awry,
And before he could help it, fell down from the sky;
All the for best, most all would agree,
’Cause jolly St. Nick awaited with glee.
Seems alamopuck had jacked the red sled,
When Santa saw fit to rest, and get fed.
He struck him with lefts, he struck him with rights,
The reindeer applauded and cheered: “outa sight!”
Santa mounted the sleigh and grabbed tight the reigns,
It was time to take flight and play reindeer games!
To will-411’s, aaronlo’s, vintagehky’s too;
PenaltyMan, Megatron, don’t forget sacrebleu.
Donrobertson, Mgiuseffi, imagoalie, and ferris,
MichaelDoyle, danvincent and then there’s the rest of us;
If you’ve read to this point and don’t see your name,
It’s more about syllables than it is based on blame;
You can see I’m no poet, and I already knew it;
But the harder I tried, the more that I blew it;
To all who’ve been good traders, and all who have tried,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all the terrific people I’ve encountered here over the past few years. And, obviously, all of the above, weak though it may be, is meant in good fun.
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