Friday, December 15, 2017

Xmas 2017: No Xmas This Year, (as told by Mr. S. Claus)

It's that happy time of year again, and what is more festive than my annual poem. So here it is. Enjoy, happy Whatever.

No Xmas This Year (as told by Mr. S. Claus)

Its the night before Xmas and all is quite grim
No reason to carol nor the tree to get trim
No purpose to hanging the stockings with care
Cuz there’s no chance that Santa will show up this year
No flying sleigh shall by Santa be mounted
My reindeer and I, I’m afraid, have been grounded.

There will be no Xmas, but I don’t blame myself
This problem all started with that loudmouth elf
You know the one, with that really cute tushy
Just the right combination of firmness and cushy
She was wearing a pair of those tight yoga pants
And while she worked she was doing a dance
Watching her move just brought me such bliss
What could I do? I couldn’t resist!
Over to her I went in a blink
Looked her in the eye, and gave her a wink
And said “Hey there elf Judy, you sure are cute
Would you like to see what’s beneath my red suit”
Then in a move that would cost me some cash
I undid my black belt and gave her a flash
And what I did next  was also quite dumb
I placed my jolly hand on her lovely bum.

For some reason Judy seemed less than amused
She told everybody that she’s been abused.
First she filed a complaint with  the North Pole HR
Then talked to a reporter from the Northern Lights Star
And Despite all my efforts to keep all this local
She got even madder, even more vocal
She hired a lawyer and got on TV
Blabbed to  60 minutes and MSNBC
She’d talk to a journalist from anywhere
Except Fox. I’m not a democrat so they dont care.
I knew it was they end, that I had no hope, yuh
When she sat on the couch for a long chat with Oprah!

Well, after that all hell broke loose
as every elf who I’d given the goose
Backed up her story by telling their own
Including that shiksa by whom I’d been blown
When I told her that she must succumb to my power
Or She’d be cleaning toilets in New York at Trump Tower.
And it wasn’t just elves, oh, no, no, no
But the mommies from under the mistletoe
Because it turned out that many were pissed
they thought it was their husbands who they had kissed.

The reaction was deep as the Buffalo snow
The cries came from all over  “Santa must go”
From Congress, from Hollywood, and late night TV
It seemed all the world had just turned on me
Folks who once loved my white beard and red  suit
Wanted nothing more now than to give me the boot.
People who loved me when they were young
Cursed St. Nick  and said that I should be hung.
(And I am! Ask elf Judy)

I gathered around the friends I still had
They all agreed, the situation was bad
And I knew it was over when good old Rudolph
Said I should give up, and just go play golf.
So after 3 glasses of my favorite red wine
I told Anderson Cooper that I would resign.

So, no Xmas this year. Santa’s been beaten.
The elves were laid off, the reindeer’ve been eaten
And as for me, I’ve got a new place
At a rehab resort for those in disgrace
Where I have a group session every day
With Franken and Weinstien and Louis CK
And Rose and Batali and Barton and Frank
And a few other schmucks who’ve showed of their crank.
Our daily sessions are what is in store
When we are joined shortly by Trump, Farenthold and Moore.
But each of us knows one day we’ll be back
Hey, that group session leader sure has a nice rack!

Uplifting as a Hallmark movie! Hope your 2018 is better than this shitty year!

Saturday, December 17, 2016

2016 Annual Xmas Poem!

It's that time again! Time for another heart warming Xmas tale. This year's is particularly touching, and should probably be made into a film, but Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye are dead. Here's the video:

And, if you'd like to read it yourself:
Xmas At Drumpf Tower,
as told by an Orange Turd

Twas the night before Xmas and all through the Tower
There was a sense of excitement with my brand new power
The servants, of course, were shivering in fear
Knowing my wrath might always appear
I’d made them sign contracts so they’d never blab
And each woman’s pussy had been given a grab
It was going to be a great Xmas night
And it, like my friends, would be nothing but white
I’d had my last fabulous wonderful meeting
And had just settled in for a great night of tweeting
And soon I would be all snug in my bed
While visions of Ivanka danced in my head.
Awaiting St Nick with gifts of great worth
Because I am the smartest person on earth

I had gone to the mirror to admire my coiffure
Laughing at what I’d made Romney endure
When out on the patio I heard a loud sound
I was sure that old Santa had just touched down
Having flown from the pole, where it is so cold
To bring me more things with my name stamped in gold
Instead through the window crashed a large ugly beast
More hideous than Hillary by three times at least
It had giant horns like the ones on a goat
And a strong stench was coming from its brown fur coat
Carrying bells in one hand and a chain in the other
And a long scary tongue: this was one ugly mother
Big fangs were coming from it’s smelly mouth
It reminded me of my voters down in the south.

I yelled “What the hell! You’re not St. Nick!”
It growled back at me “Shut up you dick!
I am not Santa Claus, that much is true
He doesn’t visit a scumbag like you
For putzes with nothing but shit in their head
Get visits from me, evil Krampus instead!”
“What the hell is a Krampus” I strongly inquired
“Get out of my house. I say you’re fired!”

He spit in my face and kicked me in the balls
Then tore down the paintings of me on my walls
“You see, Donnieboy, you’ve been very bad
And because of your lies a great nation’s been had
You misled the country to form a strong bond
With schmucks too stupid to know they’d been conned
Like you give a shit about the working class
But you lied and you got them to all kiss your ass
There’ll be no Xmas joy as you had expected
Because of the way you got elected.
You just wanted glory, and power and money
To get adulation and grope every honey
You got racist people hollerin and hootin
And you sucked the dick of that bastard Putin
The life of the Donald is one great big scam
You’re less of a person than a rancid yam
You do nothing from which you will not gain
So this year, Donnieboy, you get nothing but pain!”

Then he punched me real hard, right in the jaw
And I really cried at the next thing I saw
He grabbed all the books I pretend to have written
The only ones with which I am smitten
And whipped out his wiener and let out a strong pee
Then called me a gonif as he aimed some at me
He hit me real hard with that big rusty chain
and cackled aloud as he did it again
“I hear you love coal” he said with whoop
Then pulled down the pants of my suit with one swoop
What he did with the coal I’d rather not say
But I’ll be pooping black until Valentine’s day

I was writhing in pain from the coal up my shitter
But soon  I will call him a loser on twitter
“Okay I”m done” he said with a punch
As he grabbed my beautiful hair in a bunch
And slapped me once more with a hand quite hirsute
“Now I’m off to see your boys Rudy and Newt
And your racist friend Bannon will get a hard smack
And I’ll tell him that Santa and Jesus are black”.
Then into my gut I felt one more thump
“ America was great til it voted for Trump!”

So this Xmas Santa won’t bring me more stuff
You might think a rich guy like me had enough
But I have another idea in store
Cuz I’ll use my new job to score me some more.
Yes, getting even richer will be my play
If my boss Vladimir says it okay.

Happy Holidays. And if you can do an impersonation of the groper in chief and would like to record this, please share it with me.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

2015 Xmas Poem.

It's that time again! Time for another uplifting xmas story from the Charles Dickens of our generation....oh, wait, no, I wrote it. Well, I hope you enjoy, and that you have a great holiday season and a fantastic New Year!


Twas the night before Xmas and I was feeling filleted
In 8 days I would begin my 7th decade
Old age was upon me like a wicked curse
It was just about time to start dining at Furr’s
It seems so long since my eyes had a glint
Now it was time to buy books in large print
I used to go home with girls who looked nice
Now I bed down with a CPAP device
How did so much time just slip away?
I swear I was 30 just yesterday!

I was prone on the couch nursing my aching knee
Fighting the urge to get up and pee
When out on the patio I heard a loud thud
So loud that it sent a chill through my blood
I threw open the door to see what was the matter
Though I really wanted to empty my bladder
And who was there sitting in my rocking chair
But the bearded fat dude who comes round every year
I pulled up a chair so that I could sit
And said “Santa, again? I’m too old for this shit!

“Yes you are old” said Santa through his snowy beard
“At your age I guess it’s not Santa who’s feared”:
You don’t need the gifts that folks buy on a whim
You’re more concerned with the reaper so grim.
You no longer dream of the girls you could roger
You’re not much more than an ancient grave dodger
It is your mortality about which you most think
Now let me inside and get me a drink”.

We went into the house and I grabbed him a glass
while down on the couch he plopped his fat ass
He said “Come on, its Xmas, don’t look so sad”
As I poured him 2 fingers of  Old Grand Dad
He considered his drink with a look that was crappy
“You own 2 buses and you’re not drinking Pappy?
“Up Yours!” I told Santa, with no regret
“Better than milk and cookies, I would bet”

“Santa” I asked “ what brings you here?
I doubt that you brought any new toys this year
Stuff for the old is not one of your niches
The only sack that you have is the one in your britches”
The fat bastard grinned and adjusted his hat
How’d he live all these years, being that fat?
“You think I’m not sick of doing this job
Having to bring toys so kids will not sob
They sit on my lap and beg while they pee
Then leave sour milk and stale cookies for me
Doing that every Xmas totally sucks
I’m sick and tired of these little schmucks”

Hearing this I was shocked, it made my brain hazy
It was like Trump has said something not batshit crazy
Santa quitting was not a thought I could think
I bit my pot cookie and slurped down my drink
“Santa this is insane” I quickly objected
“Millions of  kids will be so dejected”
“So what” Santa said as he emptied his glass
“those little putzes can all kiss my ass!
I came by your house do see if you’d join me
Cuz that new Star Wars movie I’m itching to see
And to make sure we kill the holiday blues
We’ll get some Chinese, just like the Jews”

A heartwarming story, well, this is not it
For Santa and I, the movie we hit
We drank some more bourbon and ate some pot candy
And to feel even better we chased it with brandy
Then off to the theater we surely did go
And ate 3 tubs of popcorn while watching the show
Then we got some eggrolls and moo goo gai pan
And that was my Xmas with the jolly fat man.

That Xmas morning there were many sad faces
Where kids thought there’d by toys, there were just empty spaces
So the kids learned a lesson we all know to be true
Sometimes life will just crap on you!

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

2014 Annual Xmas Poem


Twas three days after solstice, also Xmas eve
I was texting my friends that soon I would leave
To meet them for dinner, where we would gulp
Good food from a place with great ratings on Yelp
Of course we’d take pictures of our tasty chow
And post them on Instagram so you could say “Wow!”
I’d bought lots of presents, good gifts, no crappos
From Amazon, Crutchfield, and of course Zappos
My thoughts had been tweeted, my blog post was written
And I’d posted on Facebook everything that was fittin’

I gathered my phones and was ready to shift
Out the door to the car that was coming from Lyft
And just as I pulled on my new leather jacket
I heard past my earbuds an ungodly racket
In the street was a sight too strange to be true
A giant red sleigh pulled by eight caribou
And out of the sled two black boots hit the ground
Worn by a guy with a belly quite round
In a red suit and hat that I’d just have to mock
He must have bought it from Overstock.
And on his face was a bushy white beard.
Was this guy a hipster or was he just weird?
He bounded the stairs to my house awful quick,
A fat man so agile? It must be St. Nick!
(although, I must admit very starkly
I thought for a minute it could be Charles Barkley)

I opened the door and saw his great heft
Yes It was Santa. I said “WTF?”
“Season’s greetings young man” He said with a grin
“I brought you a gift. Can I come in?
And How ‘bout you increase the Xmas cheer
By bringing Kris Kringle a nice cold craft beer!”
My fridge is not full, I am no hoarder,
But I quickly brought Santa a barrel aged porter
“Santa” I said, “What a big thrill for me
To see you in person, I mean OMG
My friends will never believe this is true
You mind if I get a selfie with you?”

“No selfies!” said Santa, “Don’t be such a boob
And no video that you will put on Youtube,
And no hashtag Santa” said the bearded old Djin
“And no we will not connect on Linkedin

“But Santa,” I cried “I know you are old
Perhaps you don’t get how your image is gold
I’d get lots of viewers, have lots of ad clicks
And make lots of money and get lots of chicks
With you in a photo my fame would be vast
Would you at least be on my podcast?”

Santa stopped smiling and adjusted his suit
And pulled back a foot with a giant black boot
And trust it forward right into my groin
To have that not happen I’d have paid a bitcoin.
“Stop will you please with this being connected
It’s a real stupid way of getting respected”
I writhed on the floor, trying to breath
Hoping that he would just up and leave
Then he pulled a package out of his sack
And landed it into my nuts with a smack
“Here is your gift, you stupid schnook
It’s just what you need: It is a book!”
I was now pretty sure I could not again pee
For this kind of pain there’s no emogi
“Merry Xmas” he said “And happy New Year”
Then in one motion, chugged the whole beer.
“Look at you on the floor, like you’re all beggy
You’ve really turned into a big fat shmegege
Then he turned on his heels, but before he would go
He said “Ha, One more thing: LMFO!”

What a horrible Xmas, boy I was miffed
But at least the fat bastard left me a gift
Then and I opened it up, and what the heck
The damn book was written by that nutjob Glenn Beck!
So here’s wishing everyone Holiday cheer
While I hope that my nads will some day reappear.

There you go, another heartwarming Christmas tale.  Enjoy whatever it is you celebrate and be real groovy next year!