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The Night Before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
Everybody felt shitty,
Even the mouse.
With mom at the whore house
And Dad smoking grass,
I'd just settled down
For a nice piece of ass.
When out on the lawn
I heard such a clatter,
I sprung from my piece
To see what was the matter.
Then out on the lawn,
I saw a big dick,
And I knew in a moment
That it must be Saint Nick.
He came down the chimney
Like a bat out of hell,
And I knew right away
That the fucker had fell.
He filled all our stockings
With pretzels and beer,
And a big rubber dick
For my brother, the queer.
He rose up the chimney
With a thunderous fart;
The damn son of a bitch
Blew the chimney apart!
He swore and he cursed,
As he rode out of sight,
"Piss on you all,
And have a hell of a night!"
Send this poem to a friend 1 The National Anthem of Windows Nation
In honor of the new Windows Flag above the corporate campus:
OLE can you C, by the fonts of TrueType,
What so proudly we mailed to our users upgrading?
Whose class libs and tool bars, through the marketing hype,
Four meg RAM cards they'd bought, final beta awaiting.
And the testers declare, fix the bugs on the share,
Codeview'd every byte of our way cool software.
Oh, say does that user friendly icon yet wave
O'er the land of the GUI,
and the Windows of the brave.
copyright (c) 1992, Bogus Music
lyrics, deanb
inspiration, stevesh
Send this poem to a friend 2 Owed to the Spelling Checker
I have a spelling checker
It came with my PC
It plane lee marks four my revue
Miss steaks aye can knot sea.
Eye ran this poem threw it,
Your sure reel glad two no.
Its vary polished in it's weigh
My checker tolled me sew.
A checker is a bless sing,
It freeze yew lodes of thyme.
It helps me right awl stiles two reed,
And aides me when aye rime.
Each frays come posed up on my screen
Eye trussed too bee a joule
The checker pour o'er every word
To cheque sum spelling rule.
Be fore a veiling checkers
Hour spelling mite decline,
And if were lacks or have a laps,
We wood be maid to wine.
Butt now bee cause my spelling
Is checked with such grate flare,
Their are know faults with in my cite,
Of non eye am a wear.
Now spelling does knot phase me,
It does knot bring a tier.
My pay purrs awl due glad den
With wrapped words fare as hear.
To rite with care is quite a feet
Of witch won should be proud.
And wee mussed dew the best wee can,
Sew flaws are knot aloud.
Sow ewe can sea why aye dew prays
Such soft ware four pea seas.
And why I brake in two averse
By righting want too pleas.
Send this poem to a friend 3 Spam Haiku
Pink tender morsel,
Glistening with salty gel.
What the hell is it?
--------------
Ears, snouts and inards,
A homogeneous mass.
Pass another slice.
--------------
Old man seeks doctor.
"I eat SPAM daily", says he.
Angioplasty.
--------------
Highly unnatural,
The tortured shape of this "food":
A small pink coffin.
- author unknown
Send this poem to a friend 4 If Dr. Seuss Wrote for Star Trek: The Next Generation
Picard: Sigma Indri, that's the star,
So Data, please, how far? How far?
Data: Our ship can get there very fast
But still the trip will last and last
We'll have two days til we arrive
But can the Indrans there survive?
Picard: LaForge, please give us factor nine.
LaForge: But sir, the engines are offline!
Picard: Offline: But why? I want to go!
Please make it so, please make it so!
Riker: But sir, if Geordi says we can't,
We can't, we mustn't, and we shan't,
The danger here is far too great!
Picard: But surely we must not be late!
Troi: I'm sensing anger and great ire.
Computer: Alert! Alert! The ship's on fire!
Picard: The ship's on fire? How could this be?
Who lit the fire?
Riker: Not me.
Worf: Not me.
Picard: Computer, how long til we die?
Computer: Eight minutes left to say goodbye.
Data: May I suggest a course to take?
We could, I think, quite safely make
Extinguishers from tractor beams
And stop the fire, or so it seems...
Geordi: Hurray! Hurray! You've saved the day!
Again I say, Hurray! Hurray!
Picard: Mr. Data, thank you much.
You've saved our lives, our ship, and such.
Troi: We still must save the Indran planet --
Data: Which (by the way) is made of granite...
Picard: Enough, you android. Please desist.
We understand -- we get your gist.
But can we get our ship to go?
Please, make it so, PLEASE make it so.
Geordi: There's sabotage among the wires
And that's what started all the fires.
Troi: We have a saboteur? Oh, no!
We need to go! We need to go!
Riker: We must seek out the traitor spy
And lock him up and ask him, "Why?"
Worf: Ask him why? How sentimental.
I say give him problems dental.
Troi: Are any Romulan ships around?
Have scanners said that they've been found?
Or is it Borg or some new threat
We haven't even heard of yet?
I sense no malice in this crew.
Now what are we supposed to do?
Crusher: Captain, please, the Indrans need us.
They cry out, "Help us, clothe us, feed us!"
I can't just sit and let them die!
A doctor MUST attempt -- MUST try!
Picard: Doctor, please, we'll get there soon.
Crusher: They may be dead by Tuesday noon.
*COMMERCIAL BREAK, COMMERCIAL BREAK
HOW LONG WILL THESE DUMB ADS TAKE?*
Worf: The saboteur is in the brig.
He's very strong and very big.
I had my fazer set on stun.
A zzzip! A zzzap! Another one!
He would not budge, he would not fall,
He would not stun, no, not at all!
He changed into a stranger form
All soft and purple, round and warm.
Picard: Did you see this, Mr. Worf?
Did you see this creature morph?
Worf: I did and then I beat him fairly.
Hit him on the jaw -- quite squarely.
Riker: My commendations, Klingon friend!
Our troubles now are at an end!
Crusher: Now let's get our ship to fly
And orbit yonder Indran sky!
Picard: LaForge, please tell me we can go...?
Geordi: Yes, sir, we can.
Picard: Then make it so!
***** THE END *****
Send this poem to a friend 5