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'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the board
Not a jooser was stirring, not even my lord;
The needles were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Needto soon would be there;
The gaytards were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of big penni danced in their heads;
And HR in her 'kerchief, and I with my cack,
Had just settled down for a big bowl of crack,
When out on BTS there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the ‘puter I flew like a flash,
logged into EF and searched for some gash.
The glare on the screen of the new-posted ass,
gave my loins a tingle, way down below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should I peer,
but a nasty johnson, and eight cans of beer.
With a shriveled shaft, so ugly and sick,
I knew in a moment it must be needto’s dick.
More rapid than falcons I tried to shift pages
And he laughed, and bellowed, and called me out by name;
“Gambino, you faggot, stop staring at my beam!
Log off the computer and start buying my cream!
Tell your friends, tell your pa, tell them all!
Now hurry up! Hurry up! Your balls are way small”
As quick as a Jap in the owning of Burma,
I reached for my wallet, to buy me some derma.
But my cc was declined, much to my dismay,
so off went my supplements, and rnch is still gaye.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard at the door,
the scratching and mewling of some tricked-out whore.
As I withdrew my glock, and was turning around,
down the chimney St. Needto came with a bound.
He was dressed all in leather, from his skull to his vest,
and his clothes were all stained with whiskey and test;
A bundle of anti-es he had stashed on his back,
And he looked like a jooser as he showed me his muscles
His eyes were all darty, his breath stank of mussels
His cheeks were slightly bloated, his smile was slick
He was drooling a lot it was making me sick
And the skin on his face was white as the snow;
I packed him a pipe, I hoped he would go
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had flat feet and a pair of 20 inch gunnys,
That jiggled, when he laughed, it was really quite funny
He was stubby and tough, a right ole jolly Bostonian
I coulda kicked his ass, but I’m not that draconian
A wink of his eye and a twist of his belly,
Soon made me wonder: wtf is so smelly?
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And gaffled all my belongings; then turned with a smirk,
And pulling his pecker aside of his trousers
And giving a nod, he pissed on my browsers
He sprang to his delta, gave angel a whistle
And away they drove, off like a missile
Before he left I heard him proclaim
"Happy Christmas to EF, and to my haters god dame."
Not a jooser was stirring, not even my lord;
The needles were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Needto soon would be there;
The gaytards were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of big penni danced in their heads;
And HR in her 'kerchief, and I with my cack,
Had just settled down for a big bowl of crack,
When out on BTS there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the ‘puter I flew like a flash,
logged into EF and searched for some gash.
The glare on the screen of the new-posted ass,
gave my loins a tingle, way down below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should I peer,
but a nasty johnson, and eight cans of beer.
With a shriveled shaft, so ugly and sick,
I knew in a moment it must be needto’s dick.
More rapid than falcons I tried to shift pages
And he laughed, and bellowed, and called me out by name;
“Gambino, you faggot, stop staring at my beam!
Log off the computer and start buying my cream!
Tell your friends, tell your pa, tell them all!
Now hurry up! Hurry up! Your balls are way small”
As quick as a Jap in the owning of Burma,
I reached for my wallet, to buy me some derma.
But my cc was declined, much to my dismay,
so off went my supplements, and rnch is still gaye.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard at the door,
the scratching and mewling of some tricked-out whore.
As I withdrew my glock, and was turning around,
down the chimney St. Needto came with a bound.
He was dressed all in leather, from his skull to his vest,
and his clothes were all stained with whiskey and test;
A bundle of anti-es he had stashed on his back,
And he looked like a jooser as he showed me his muscles
His eyes were all darty, his breath stank of mussels
His cheeks were slightly bloated, his smile was slick
He was drooling a lot it was making me sick
And the skin on his face was white as the snow;
I packed him a pipe, I hoped he would go
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had flat feet and a pair of 20 inch gunnys,
That jiggled, when he laughed, it was really quite funny
He was stubby and tough, a right ole jolly Bostonian
I coulda kicked his ass, but I’m not that draconian
A wink of his eye and a twist of his belly,
Soon made me wonder: wtf is so smelly?
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And gaffled all my belongings; then turned with a smirk,
And pulling his pecker aside of his trousers
And giving a nod, he pissed on my browsers
He sprang to his delta, gave angel a whistle
And away they drove, off like a missile
Before he left I heard him proclaim
"Happy Christmas to EF, and to my haters god dame."
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