"T'was the night before Christmas" is a very long poem.
This is especially true when you think it'd be faster to do a parody of that poem instead of working and working to write a blog. You'll find yourself working just as hard, if not harder, to write that parody and you'll want to give up about half-way through only to realize that you're too far in to quit now.
Merry Christmas; may your stocking be filled with Starbucks Instant Coffee and big, food grade steel buckets. Without further ado, I give you the poem.
Love,
Does Coffee Come In Bucket Size
(aka Elizabeth)
T'was The Week Before Christmas
Everyone was stressing and acting quite shitty.
The local biz-owners pretended not to care
That citizens were grumpy with vim and with flair.
See, money was nestled all snug in their hands;
Nervous vendors awaited each woman and man.
With kids in their carseats, and I in mine, too,
We headed Downtown with our list, Yeehoo!
When out in the street there arose such a clatter,
I laid on my horn to see what was the matter.
Away down a side street I turned like a flash,
To avoid getting into a holiday crash.
The sun in my eyes, while it rained and it snowed,
Made me hustle inside with my kiddies in tow.
When, what to my half-blinded eyes should appear,
But a guy on a bike shouting swears-- that was clear.
"You knew you were cutting me off, you big dick!"
More rapid than eagles, his cursing, it came,
And he flipped me the bird while he called me these names:
For the sake of the children I shall not repeat them.
But suffice it to say -- we're not going to be friends.
My eldest asked Mommy, "Mother dear, what's a "hoe"?"
And the youngest pulled out a tool to show.
As we left the toy store with some bags and a sigh,
I decided that weird guy was probably high.
Down the street we walked with more shopping to do,
While cars honked and others stopped being nice. Boo!
And then, with a twinkling, we opened a door--
And we were accosted with meanness once more!
As I sucked in my breath and was turning around,
A little old lady pushed me to the ground!
But her disposition was not happy OR sweet.
A bundle of bags she had in her hand,
And she said "Hurry up! Move over! Don't stand
Right in the doorway! Move along! Now scoot!"
And I knew nothing I could do for this old coot.
Her mean mouth was pinched in a permanent frown.
(I took joy in the long nose hairs that fell down
And tickled her moustache, which covered her teeth.
And those teeth! Oh those teeth! Oh, those terrible teeth!
She had a broad nose and a rather large belly,
That shook when she bitched, like a bowl full of jelly!)
She was clearly impressed with her important self,
So I laughed when she said that, to spite herself.
With a huff and snort and a twist of her head,
She pushed on by me and away that jerk sped.
And crossed off the names on my wish list of quirks.
And laying my Visa in the debit machine,
I accepted the purchase-- made the vendor's eye's gleam.
We walked back to the car, and spotted the ticket.
Out of time was my meter? That Reader can lick it!
I'm sure he heard me exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas, my ass! Meter Reader, let's fight!"
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