Twas the night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a louse;
The cum-socks were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Andy's ass soon would be bare;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of dookie-lumps danced in their heads;
And mamma in kerchief, and i in my cap,
Had just settled in for a dance on my lap;

When out on the lawn there arose such a splatter,
I sprang from the bed while i dripped from my bladder;
Away to the window i flew like a dasher,
Tore open my robe and stood there like a flasher;

The moon on my balls and the new fallen snow,
Gave lustre of mid-day to the object below;
When, what to my bloodshot eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer;

With a dreamy young driver, so slick and so randy,
I knew in a moment it must be St Andy;
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of logs, and ST Andy too;

And dressed all in fur with a red satin sash,
I noticed the turtles head poke from his ass;
With a sickening grunt he unleashed his log,
With the force of an angel my chimney did clog;

His eyes--how they twinkled! His bung-hole all steamy,
He yelled "Merry Christmas", my shit's extra creamy!