Twas the Night Before Christmas, My Style...

Twas the day before Christmas and all through the house,
my dog Xena was prowling, protecting the house
The stockings had runs, thanks to Nikki's fun without care
and I ran thru the house, nude, naked, bare

until at the door, the garage one, it did open
I grabbed for my boxers, right side in I was hope'n
I threw on a shirt and some shorts I thought matched
I put on two shoes, one brown and one black

I went to the door and unlocked the latch
I threw open the storm door and checked my shirt tag
And what did I see in my garage space?
Some fat man with unusual speed, dexterity & grace

His face was round, wind-blown and red
his clothes were the same, covered in bugs, all dead
His boots were worn down and missing their soles
His pants were no better, the crotch had a hole

He made his way in, heading straight for the tree
He met first the coffee table, with his left knee
He cursed and cussed and made such a tinkle
I thought to myself "This is Kris Kringle?"

He grabbed for the gift in his graying sack
not caring too much he tossed it to the back
it landed with a thud next to the one wrapped in black,
the one with holes that hissed, Grandma wrapped up her cat...

With a scratch of his ass and a gulp of warm milk
he perused through the kitchen to see what he could bilk
Grabbing the pudding some 3 weeks old
and the plate of brisket already covered in mold

He went back to his sleigh, and hooked to the right
the reindeer must be blind, or senile at night
they hit the street light, taking it out
along with Dasher, Dancer and Donner's left snout

They recovered altitude almost hitting my car
but hit the neighbor's tree, they didn't get far
As they fell to the street, Santa's words I heard him say:
"Goddamn you flying assholes, you ruined my sleigh!"