Lord Scrooge and the story of CommieClaus

Lord Scrooge and the story of CommieClaus

From: JRs coonhound (subversive@commieplot.com)
Subject: Lord Scrooge and the story of Commie Claus

“Well Dear,” Missus Valve asks adoringly of her hubby,
“are you going to get any of the children Christmas
presents this year?”

“Have I ever had to before?  You just leave it to me!
Gather up the little shi’ er ah, kids, and tell em ta meet
me downstairs in front of the tree.”

“Now honey buns, you aren’t going to do anything
foolish now are you? After all, this is the first time
the relatives have entrusted us to care for their kids
through the holidays.”

“Don’t nag me woman! I know what I’m doing!
I’m just gonna tell em a little Christmas story, that’s all.”

Missus Valve trys her best to conceal a frown and
hesitantly proceeds down the stairs. “Come children,
your Uncle Willie wants to tell you all a Christmas story.”

“Unkie Wiwwy, Unkie Wiwwy, are you gowing to tewwus
that stowy bout wumzy duh wed bashing wepubwican?”
You pwamissed!  You pwamissed!”

“Nah! lissen up, I got a better one.
It’s time you kids learned the story of Satan Nick,
so each’a yez take a seat, at arms length from
each other, buttun yer lips, and don’t interrupt.”

There once was a man,
twas the scourge of the land.
who, traveled around
with a sinister plan.

Possessing as slaves,
a commune of midgits,
he whipped and he beat,
whilst they made for him widgits.

From ordinary widjets,
one could not tell,
these were magically cast
from a COMMUNIST spell.

With a team of wild beasts
to ferret him forth,
he beset on the world
from his cave in the north.

Many were fooled
by the gifts he did give,
when he broke and he entered
the homes where they live.

For Tim a guitar amp,
made with tran-zisters.
He played till his fingers,
blood raw with blisters

He grew his hair long
and married a tramp.
Played hippy dip songs
with his solid-state amp.

As the spell on the amp
took over his soul
he spiraled to hell
in a Commie Black Hole

When, with comrades of ilk,
the Nam war he protested,
in the end twas his fate,
he was shot and arrested.

For Suzy was left,
a small book she did read,
which es-poused the evil
of communist creed.

After reading this book
she smoked crack and did whore,
contracted VD,
even voted for Gore

She fell in with communists,
eco-nut-kooks,
went on to author
more communist books

In case you are wondering,
where can she be?
she was eaten by bears,
whilst huggin a tree.

And old Satan Nick
some call “Commie Claus”
is delightfully laughing and
and mincing his paws.

His sinister plan
has worked once again,
he’s spread cross the land
this communist *sin*.

For in giving gifts
and sharing of love
his *evil* is spread
from the north, up above.

So, when Christmas trees
are lighted with lights
remember Timmy and Suzy,
their Chrstmas-time plights.

“Ok kids, off to bed now,
ya gotta get up early and open those presents.”

“Uuhhhhhh, that’s ok Unkie Wiwwy,
we don’t weewy want any pwesents.”

Click here to see the original Twas the Night Before Christmas Poem

Christmas Poem CollinsGalasso

Christmas Poem CollinsGalasso

Author:   Gary Galasso
Email: Gary.Galasso@worldnet.att.net

Hi everybody! Merry Christmas morning!
My eleven year old was so inspired by John Biltz and the Night before
Christmoose that he wanted to do his own and have me post it for him.
What follows is mainly his own work (blame it on him, not me please)
with a little editorial help from my alter-ego Evil Mary, who
occasionally reappears.  I’m sorry it’s not really HL related, but it
was inspired by John’s.

The Night Before Christmas
by Collins Galasso

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse–
Due to the fact that the mice were decaying inside our
big orange cat’s digestive system.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the skunks wouldn’t tinkle in there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of cavities danced in their mouths.

And mama in her kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a crazy laughter
I rose from my bed to see what it could be,
And opened the shutter, which fell on my knee.

I crawled to the window with one broken leg
And saw the Terminator with a stuffed bag full of plagues.

Like fungi and mucus and other things icky,
He filled our stockings with things that were squishy.

And then jumped in his cement truck,
And covered our lawn flamingo with goo,
Our plastic ducks on the lawn,
and our plastic turkey, too.

And he said as he rode off in his jet,
I’ll be back!
With another plague attack,
On that you can bet.

The End

Click here to see the original Twas the Night Before Christmas Poem

The Night Before Xmas CoCo

The Night Before Xmas CoCo

From: James Hrubik (aa257@ACORN.NET)
Subject: The Night Before Xmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the Shack
Not a salesman was stirring, not even in back.
The CoCos were clearanced, not one in their stocks
Except for a demo left out of it’s box.

The PCs were silent, their screen savers dim
The Santa Claus virus had hit ‘em again.
When out on the floor there arose such a clatter
The demo woke up to see what was the matter.

A strange little hacker typed “DOS” on the keys
And the disk drive spun up just as quick as you please.
As OS-9 booted the green screen was cleared
And Multi-Vue’s window with icons appeared.

The cursor he moved with a cheap little joystick
To SuperComm’s icon; the button went “Click”
The modem connected, the lights they did flicker
The browser was text and for sure it was quicker.

He opened his mailbox and checked through the list
Observing extensions that Outlook had missed.
Deleting the SPAM and the hypertext too,
The ads and the porn never came into view.

A greeting he sent to the CoCoList crowd,
and I heard as he logged off and chuckled out loud,
Merry Christmas to all, and a word to the wise :
PRACTICE SAFE E-MAIL – USE A COCO!

OK, so some minutes I have too much time on my hands.
Merry Christmas, CoCoNuts!

—Jim Hrubik

Click here to see the original Twas the Night Before Christmas Poem