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!