[StBernard] 'Twas the Damned Night before Christmas.

[Westley Annis]

One of the blogs I read had a link to this blog and this post.  As I get
older I find myself identifying more and more.

JY
‘Twas the night before Christmas and in the house of Don Mills,
I had put on my nightshirt and was taking my pills.
I sat down by the window and would wait there ‘til dawn
To make sure that the young people stayed off of my lawn.
I was sure they were near and not home in their beds,
Off getting drunk out of their sugar-plummed heads.
I kept an ear out for the teens, but I heard not a peep,
So I decided to rest and retired to sleep.
When out on my lawn, I heard such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed – and not because of my bladder.
I ran to the windows, angry and mumbling,
“I’ll tear you a new one” quietly grumbling.
I tore open the windows and what should I see,
But a shadowy figure in the midst of a pee.
And in addition my wondering eyes could see clear,
that the despicable thug was chugging a beer.
And once it was done, he yelped out a scream,
I knew then for sure, that he must be a teen.
More stupid than rabid, he staggered about,
And he whistled and belched and he started to shout.
“I’m so drunk! I’m so wasted! I’m outta my tits
I’m basted! I’m buzzed! I’m totally blitzed.
I’m a badass, a home boy, I’m in your face,
And I’m gonna break into this old fart’s place.
I shouted “God Damn it, that’s no way to have fun!
Get your ass off my street” and I called 9-1-1.
But he propped my old ladder on the side of my house,
And scurried on up like a flea bitten mouse.
And the next thing I knew I heard him up on my roof,
Stumbling about like a great drunken goof.
He slid down my chimney on that cold Christmas Eve
And I stood there before him and told him to leave.
He was all dressed in denim, from his head to his toe
He wasn’t welcome in my house and I told him so.
He was shabby, unkempt and exceptionally farty,
And he flung back his head and he shouted out “Party!”
He smiled like an idiot and in a voice very rude
Mumbled the words “How’s it hanging, old dude.”
His eyes they were bloodshot, his pimples were throbbing
And when he lurched for my rye, I could see he’d come robbing.
I told him to stop, to desist, go away,
And advised the police were well on their way.
I don’t know if it registered, or if he just didn’t care,
But all he gave in response was a damned vacant stare
Then he grabbed up my rye and he started to chug,
By now I’d had more than enough of this thug.
I threatened to break both his legs and an arm,
To unleash my cane and cause physical harm.
“You?”Take me on? You don’t have the guts!”
And that’s when I kicked him right in the nuts.
He fell to the floor and started to whine,
I snatched up my cane, cracked him hard on the spine .
In moments the police burst into my house,
They detained and arrested that miserable louse.
And he heard me exclaim as he was dragged from my sight,
“Merry Christmas, you assclown, enjoy prison, goodnight!”