Got Stripers
12-24-2021, 07:44 AM
Merry Xmas everyone and here is a post I put up back in 2003, its time for a repost.
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
not a damn thing was working, not even my mouse.
My isp was down, I couldn’t connect;
my holiday posts, I’d have to forget.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of computer games, danced in their heads.
And mamma was drinking to calm her nerves down;
this holiday just about makes her melt down.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the monitor to see what was the matter.
I tripped over dozens of batteries spread out on the floor;
the language would be censored as my face met the door.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
made me sad with three months of this crap;
before I could pull the boat from under it’s wrap.
But a UPS van, making a last minute stop,
I knew in a moment it must be payday.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
and he whistled, and shouted, and said not today.
"Now, BM! And, SLIP! And, CLAMMER and JOHN!
All received their gift certificates this morning at dawn.
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
I yelled as he left, come on that can’t be them all.
So back in the house, with a frown on my face;
with an arm full of boxes, from each mail order place.
All for the kids, but nothing for Dad,
I’d fished far too much, and so I must have been bad.
And then, in a twinkling, as I sat on the floor,
The steady knocking of someone at the front door.
As I drew the door open, whom do I meet,
but Mr.SOL from NY, with his crew at his feet?
He was dressed all in Beans, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes made a statement, or was it that look?
A bundle of Smiling Bill jigs he had flung on his back,
and Swimmers’s galore spilling out from his pack.
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
not a damn thing was working, not even my mouse.
My isp was down, I couldn’t connect;
my holiday posts, I’d have to forget.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of computer games, danced in their heads.
And mamma was drinking to calm her nerves down;
this holiday just about makes her melt down.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the monitor to see what was the matter.
I tripped over dozens of batteries spread out on the floor;
the language would be censored as my face met the door.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
made me sad with three months of this crap;
before I could pull the boat from under it’s wrap.
But a UPS van, making a last minute stop,
I knew in a moment it must be payday.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
and he whistled, and shouted, and said not today.
"Now, BM! And, SLIP! And, CLAMMER and JOHN!
All received their gift certificates this morning at dawn.
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
I yelled as he left, come on that can’t be them all.
So back in the house, with a frown on my face;
with an arm full of boxes, from each mail order place.
All for the kids, but nothing for Dad,
I’d fished far too much, and so I must have been bad.
And then, in a twinkling, as I sat on the floor,
The steady knocking of someone at the front door.
As I drew the door open, whom do I meet,
but Mr.SOL from NY, with his crew at his feet?
He was dressed all in Beans, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes made a statement, or was it that look?
A bundle of Smiling Bill jigs he had flung on his back,
and Swimmers’s galore spilling out from his pack.