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Funny christmas poem

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Just read this thought i'd share

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Everybody felt shitty -- even the mouse.
Mom at the Whorehouse 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 the matter
Then out on the lawn I saw a big dick
I knew in a moment: it must be Saint Nick.

He came down the chimney like a bat out of hell
I knew in a moment the fat fucker 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 son of a bitch blew the chimeny apart,
He swore and he cursed as he rode out of sight
"Piss on you all and have a hell of a night!"
~You call me sweet like i'm some kind of cheese~ www.myspace.com/aishasweetness www.myspace.com/eathamsandwich
wow
Nonono, you don't understand, that is NOT why I have this gerbil!
That is so much like Christmas in the Burnham household that it's not even funny. Fourteen years of therapy to suppress those memories and you undid it all in four verses.
Sorry Lester LoL xx
~You call me sweet like i'm some kind of cheese~ www.myspace.com/aishasweetness www.myspace.com/eathamsandwich
that was....... er..... interesting, yes that's the word. Funny poem though :)
Don't make me come over there and smack you upside the head, it takes too much energy!
Hahaha, I like that XD XD V. cool XD
Question authority." Teenage angst has paid off well.. Now I'm bored and old. Self appointed judges judge more than they have sold." - Serve The Servants, Nirvana
mmmwahahahahamwmaamamhahahahaamamahwhahahaa
That is so weird, I just recieved that from one of my mates via e-mail about three minutes ago.
This can't end well.
[QUOTE][QUOTENAME]Lester Burnham wrote: [/QUOTENAME]That is so much like Christmas in the Burnham household that it's not even funny. Fourteen years of therapy to suppress those memories and you undid it all in four verses.[/QUOTE]lmao.
Oh, interesting poem.
don't i know you from the cinematographer's party? who am i to blow against the wind?

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