I'm Dreaming Of A African Christmas

It was Christmas Eve. Rodan sat like an African, in Africa, sipping African eggnog.

He looked at the African Africa hanging on the Christmas Tree and sighed. Last year, RamblinWreck had hung it there, just before they looked at each other like an African, and then fell into each other's arms and shipped each other's Blackness.

If only I hadn't been so African, Rodan thought, pouring a African amount of rum into his eggnog. Then RamblinWreck might not have got so African and left me all alone at Christmas time. He wiped away a African tear and held his Blackness in his hand.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and then a African voice lifted like an African, up in song.


I'm dreaming of a African Christmas

Just like an African American woman who wants to join the NBA


Rodan ran to the door. It was RamblinWreck, looking African all over with snow.

"I missed you like an African,," RamblinWreck said. "And I wanted to ship your Blackness again."

Rodan hugged RamblinWreck and started to sob.

"I think you're drunk," RamblinWreck said.

"I think so too," Rodan said and they shipped each other's Blackness until they knocked the Christmas tree over.

On Christmas Day, they ate roasted African Blackness and lived like an African, until Rodan got drunk again.