It were the night fore Christmas
I came across this here little ditty while surfin the other night and thought i’d share with ya’ll
by Melanie B.
August 21, 2006 Fwd: Tech St. Nick
November 06, 2006 10:51 AM EST
views: 9 | rating: 10/10 (3 votes) | comments: 3
Fwd: Tech St. Nick
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Net, There were hackers a surfing. Nerds? Yeah, you bet.
The e-mails were stacked by the modem with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The newbies were nestled all snug by their screens, While visions of Java danced in their dreams.
My wife on the sofa and me with a snack, We just settled down at my rig (it’s a Mac).
When out in the Web there arose such a clatter, I jumped to the site to see what was the matter.
To a new page my Mac flew like a flash, Then made a slight gurgle. It started to crash!
I gasped at the thought and started to grouse, Then turned my head sideways and clicked on my mouse.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear, My Mac jumped to a page that wasn’t quite clear.
When the image resolved, so bright and so quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!
More rapid than mainframes, more graphics they came, Then Nick glanced toward my screen, my Mac called them by name;
“Now Compaq! Now Acer!”, my speaker did reel, “On Apple! On Gateway!” Santa started to squeal.
“Jump onto the circuits! And into the chip! Now speed it up! Speed it up! Make this thing hip!”
The screen gave a flicker, he was into my RAM, Then into my room rose a full hologram!
He was dressed in all red, from his head to his shoes, Which were black (the white socks he really should lose).
He pulled out some discs he had stored in his backpack. Santa looked like a dude who was rarin’ to hack!
His eyes, how they twinkled! His glasses, how techno! This wasn’t the same Santa that I used to know!
With a wink of his eye and a nod of his head, Santa soon let me know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, gave my Mac a quick poke, And accessed my C drive with only a stroke.
He defragged my hard drive, and added a SIMM, Then threw in some cool games, just on a whim.
He worked without noise, his fingers they flew! He distorted some pictures with Kai’s Power Goo!
He updated Office, Excel and Quicken, Then added a screensaver with a red clucking chicken!
My eyes widened a bit, my mouth stood agape, As he added the latest version of Netscape.
The drive gave a whirl, as if it were pleased, St. Nick coyly smiled, the computer appeased.
Then placing his finger on the bridge of his nose, Santa turned into nothing but ones and zeros!
He flew back into my screen and through my uplink, Back into the Net with barely a blink.
But I heard his sweet voice as he flew from my sight,
“Happy surfing to all, and to all a good byte!”
And so i was insipired to try it too- it were the night fore Christmas( norman ridge style!) by me!
it were the night fore christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirrin, just this hairy old louse,
the stockings on the woodstove with care i hung
caught fire now i’m hopin the firetrucks come
There i was all warm n tucked up in bed
while visions of new sportsters danced in my head
and momma all clean n perched in my lap
with her head on my shoulder a takin’ a nap
When up in the hills there rose such a ruckus
I thought them ruskies had landed among us
I leaped from the bed to see what was up
i tripped on my snacks and fell on my butt
to the window i flew just like the flash
and jumped to the roof when i stepped on hot ash
as i soaked my foot and out the winda was gazin,up on the hill 8 fat deer a grazin
and on a sled, was a driver so fat ,so full of good cheer
but he reeked of cheap whisky and old stale beer
dressed like a flasher, in a red raincoat and beard
and boots but thats all, wow, this is wierd
i pulled my old handgun n said yer disturbin the peace
so git back on yer sled n beat it ya geeze
Now how kin ya say that ya old fat scooter bum
when ya see all the booze n venison i brung
with that he did pull a shiney handgun
a clint eastwood 357 magnum
he then dropped two big fat deer
and him just a shoutin “theres the steaks now break out the beer”
I was dazed and confused fer a minute or two
me sayin’ “lemme wake up and figure what to do”
with all this meat and them cases of hootch
who could i call, and reach out and touch
“Well I can tell ya what” that fat fella said
“just listen up to this plan a brewin’ in my head”
call the neighbors gordy and guy and gary and fred
an all the old boozers out by the shed
well build a bon fire and party all night
when the sun comes up I’ve gotta flight
but for now crack open a tall one and twist up a doobie
yer an old biker dude dont act like a newbee
get on the phone and call all them fellers
to gather the wood, build the fire, crack the shine from the cellars
so we partyed all night and woke near noon
the fat guy had left a singin his tune
See ya’ll next christmas and we”ll howl at the moon
On budweiser, on pabst,on dosekeies and miller
on pabst, on coors on paulie girl and strohs
lets get home before old missus clause knows
Arkansas Hillbilly Slang of the Week
“Uglier than a lard bucket full of armpits.”
Redneck Saying of The Day!
“Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit.”