Best wishes ya all.

Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through the shack,
not a thing was a movin',
from the front to the back,

The kids were in bed,
I believe we had nine,
The wife in her curlers,
was lookin' real fine.

A cold wind was blowin',
up the holler it moaned,
All seven dogs on the porch
howled and groaned.

The boys were all dreamin'
of weapons and guns,
for killin' God's creatures,
there's no better fun.

The girls in their feminine
dreams were attuned,
to getting those gallons
of Wal-Mart perfume.

The wife wanted jewelry,
like rings with big rocks,
I wanted my Chevy,
down off the blocks.

Then in the yard,
such a noise did commence,
likesomething was caught,
in the barb-wire fence.

I ran to the window,
and saw pretty quick,
the man makin' the racket,
was Good Ol' St. Nick.

You may think of Santa,
in your own mind's eye,
dressed in a red and white suit,
But I've got a surprise.

That old boy's an Arkie,
our fair state he won't fail 'er,
He married his cousin,
and they live in a trailer.

On Christmas, of course,
a sleigh for his rig,
He hooks the thing up,
to a razorback pig.

He climbed on the roof,
with his bag full of goodies,
He backed down the fireplace,
all dirty and sooty.

Fat legs in his britches,
chubby hands in his mittens,
I admit from the back,
he looked like Bill Clinton.

He turned toward the tree,
His eyes all aglow,
He was a Southern boy,
from his head to his toe.

His neck was a red one,
His shirt said "Light Beer",
there was no red hat,
hiscap read, "John Deere".

He left all the presents,
with an air of delight,
Then it was back to the chimney,
and into the night.

He ran into the yard,
and threw his bag in the sleigh,
Then he yelled at the dogs,
to get out of the way.

And I heard him exclaim,
as those pigs took to flight,
Merry Christmas to all,
and to all a "Bud Lite

GIT - R - DONE

"Lamey - The cable guy" wrote in message
news
Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through the shack,
not a thing was a movin',
from the front to the back,

The kids were in bed,
I believe we had nine,
The wife in her curlers,
was lookin' real fine.

A cold wind was blowin',
up the holler it moaned,
All seven dogs on the porch
howled and groaned.

The boys were all dreamin'
of weapons and guns,
for killin' God's creatures,
there's no better fun.

The girls in their feminine
dreams were attuned,
to getting those gallons
of Wal-Mart perfume.

The wife wanted jewelry,
like rings with big rocks,
I wanted my Chevy,
down off the blocks.

Then in the yard,
such a noise did commence,
likesomething was caught,
in the barb-wire fence.

I ran to the window,
and saw pretty quick,
the man makin' the racket,
was Good Ol' St. Nick.

You may think of Santa,
in your own mind's eye,
dressed in a red and white suit,
But I've got a surprise.

That old boy's an Arkie,
our fair state he won't fail 'er,
He married his cousin,
and they live in a trailer.

On Christmas, of course,
a sleigh for his rig,
He hooks the thing up,
to a razorback pig.

He climbed on the roof,
with his bag full of goodies,
He backed down the fireplace,
all dirty and sooty.

Fat legs in his britches,
chubby hands in his mittens,
I admit from the back,
he looked like Bill Clinton.

He turned toward the tree,
His eyes all aglow,
He was a Southern boy,
from his head to his toe.

His neck was a red one,
His shirt said "Light Beer",
there was no red hat,
hiscap read, "John Deere".

He left all the presents,
with an air of delight,
Then it was back to the chimney,
and into the night.

He ran into the yard,
and threw his bag in the sleigh,
Then he yelled at the dogs,
to get out of the way.

And I heard him exclaim,
as those pigs took to flight,
Merry Christmas to all,
and to all a "Bud Lite

GIT - R - DONE

Merry Christmas, Lamey. Give the boy AND Peekaboo
a kiss for me.

On 22 Dec 2005 17:49:15 +0100, "cybercat" wrote:


"Lamey - The cable guy" wrote in message
news
Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through the shack,
not a thing was a movin',
from the front to the back,

The kids were in bed,
I believe we had nine,
The wife in her curlers,
was lookin' real fine.

A cold wind was blowin',
up the holler it moaned,
All seven dogs on the porch
howled and groaned.

The boys were all dreamin'
of weapons and guns,
for killin' God's creatures,
there's no better fun.

The girls in their feminine
dreams were attuned,
to getting those gallons
of Wal-Mart perfume.

The wife wanted jewelry,
like rings with big rocks,
I wanted my Chevy,
down off the blocks.

Then in the yard,
such a noise did commence,
likesomething was caught,
in the barb-wire fence.

I ran to the window,
and saw pretty quick,
the man makin' the racket,
was Good Ol' St. Nick.

You may think of Santa,
in your own mind's eye,
dressed in a red and white suit,
But I've got a surprise.

That old boy's an Arkie,
our fair state he won't fail 'er,
He married his cousin,
and they live in a trailer.

On Christmas, of course,
a sleigh for his rig,
He hooks the thing up,
to a razorback pig.

He climbed on the roof,
with his bag full of goodies,
He backed down the fireplace,
all dirty and sooty.

Fat legs in his britches,
chubby hands in his mittens,
I admit from the back,
he looked like Bill Clinton.

He turned toward the tree,
His eyes all aglow,
He was a Southern boy,
from his head to his toe.

His neck was a red one,
His shirt said "Light Beer",
there was no red hat,
hiscap read, "John Deere".

He left all the presents,
with an air of delight,
Then it was back to the chimney,
and into the night.

He ran into the yard,
and threw his bag in the sleigh,
Then he yelled at the dogs,
to get out of the way.

And I heard him exclaim,
as those pigs took to flight,
Merry Christmas to all,
and to all a "Bud Lite

GIT - R - DONE

Merry Christmas, Lamey. Give the boy AND Peekaboo
a kiss for me.

Yall betta bet I will.

GIT - R - DONE

Lamey - The cable guy wrote:

Yall betta bet I will.

GIT - R - DONE

that was pretty good ol son
but sit down in that chair right there
let me show you how its done

Ghetto Night Before Christmas

'Twas da night befo' Christmas & all in the hood,
Not a homie was stirring cuz it was all good;
The tube socks was hung on the window sill
And we all had smiles up on our grill.

Mookie and BeBe was snug in the crib -
In the back bedroom, cuz that's how we live.
And Mom's in her do-rag and me with my nine,
Had just gotten busy cuz girlfriend is fine.

All of a sudden a lowrider rolled by,
Bumpin' phat beats cuz the system's fly;
I bounced to the window at a quarter pas'
'Bout ready to pop a cap in somebody's ass!

Well anyway.... I yelled to my lady, Yo peep this!
She said, "Stop frontin' & just mind yo' bidness."
I said, for real doe, "come check dis out,"
We weren't even buggin', no worries, no doubt.

Cuz bumpin' an thumpin' from around da way
Was Santa, 8 reindeer and a sleigh;
Da beats was kickin', da ride was phat,
I said, "Yo red Dawg, you all that!"

He threw up a sign and yelled to his boyz,
"Ay yo, give it up, let's make some noise!"
To the top of the projects & across the strip mall,
We gots ta go, I got a booty call!"

He pulled up his ride on the top a da roof,
And sippin' on a 40, he busted a move;
I yelled up to Santa, "Yo ain't got no stack!"
He said, "Damn homie, deese projects is wack!"

"But don't worry black, cuz I gots da skillz -
I learnt back when I hadda pay da billz."
Out from his bag he pulled 3 small tings
A credit card, a knife, and a bobby pin.

He slid down the fire escape smoove as a cat,
And busted the window wit' a b-ball bat.
I said, "Whassup, Santa? Whyd'ya bust my place?"
He said, "You best get on up out my face!"

His threads was all leatha, his chains was all gold,
His sneaks was Puma and they was 5 years old;
He dropped down the duffle, Bull's logo on the side.
Santa broke out da loot and my mouf popped open wide.

A wink of his eye and a shine off his gold toof,
He cabbage patched his way back onto the roof;
He jumped in his hooptie wit' rims made of chrome,
To tap that big booty waitin' at home.

And all I heard as he cruised outta sight,
Was a loud and hearty..... "WEEESST SIIIIDE!!!!!!!"