'Twas the Night....revisited

'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck.
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to Elves,
Vertically Challenged they were calling themselves.
And labor conditions at the north pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!
The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called Unenlightened.
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,
Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets, they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football; someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.
He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere, even you.
So here is that gift, it's priced beyond worth.
May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth.

Notice: This poem is copyright 1992 by Harvey Ehrlich. Free to
distribute without changes as long as this notice remains intact.
 
Posted by JeffOTMG last Christmas on Shooters
Merry Christmas
'Twas the Night before Christmas, It was dark out, and snowing In the fireplace, the embers were still hot and glowing...

Save for me in the corner, with my back 'gainst the wall, Not a creature was stirring, In the bedrooms or hall On my hip was a Kimber, it was loaded and ready In my hand was a Python, held level and steady.

Was I waiting for burglars or jack-booted thugs? Is that why my Mossberg was loaded with slugs? Not hardly, dear friends; this was something more serious And I promise you all, I'm not crazed nor delirious!

I was waiting for Santa; I'm a friend of St. Nick's, And he'd just called me up, he was in a tight fix. Well, I won't leave you hanging, to just sit there and wonder.

Seems the Jolly Old Fat Man was the victim of blunder. He'd been down to the gun shop, for a sixgun he'd paid, But the NICS system crashed, and had marked him "delayed."

So he'd summoned my help, and I'd heard his voice quivver "This is Christmas Eve, Dave. I've got gifts to deliver!" He was flustered and furious, and he started to yellin' "I'm no deadbeat, or nutcase, or convicted felon!"

"But they treated me poorly, they treated me bad. I can see why all shooters have become so danged mad! While we're looked at as outlaws, by Schumer and Willy, The real dirtballs run free, I tell ya' it's silly!"

Well, I calmed Santa down; it was time we were leaving With me ridin' shotgun, to prevent any thieving Of St. Nick's Yuletide goodies, for good girls and boys It was my job to protect all those valuable toys.

Santa knew that I'd n'er leave him alone and unarmed, 'Mongst jerkweeds and sleazoids, where he might well be harmed. His background was clean, his character flawless No reason at all to treat him like the lawless.

With his sleighbells a jinglin' we were off like a rocket. I had pistols all holstered; spare rounds in my pocket.

From rooftop to rooftop, Santa worked all his magic, If he missed any chimneys, the results would be tragic! We dropped gifts through the night, from Miami to Maine, The pace of the Fat Man nearly drove me insane!

In Denver, Detroit, Abilene and Atlanta There was nothing on earth that could slow down Dear Santa. And when it was done, and we stopped for a while, Santa nodded approval, and broke into a smile, As he said rather proudly, and I know he weren't hintin' "Merry Christmas to all, except Reno and Clinton!" © Dave Workman, 1998


------------------
"The Gun from Down Under !"
http://www.para1911fanclub.w3.to/
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Feeling good and happy reading the lines..

"So here is that gift, it's priced beyond worth. May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth."

Merry X'mas to all and may the Peace of God be with every one.
 
> `Twas the night before Christmas, cold, dark and foreboding,
> As I sat at the work bench, quite busy reloading.
> The empties from autumn were polished so clear
> For primers and powder, and bullets from Speer.
>
> And Hornady's soft-points, and Nosler's Partitions
> (MY bench ain't no place for brand name omissions!)
> All sat in their boxes, right next to the press
> With dies from Pacific and RCBS.
>
> When all of a sudden there came such a jolt,
> I grabbed for my Mossberg and whipped out my Colt.
> As I spilled Hodgdon's powder all over the shelf
> I scrambled for cover, just to protect myself.
>
> From up on the rooftop, came hoofbeats and snorting
> Like the noise out of L'il Rock, from Clinton's cavorting!
> I eased off the safety, to press-check my auto
> With 230-hardball, I'd knock 'em all blotto.
>
> Were these rogue federal agents, sent by Schumer and Reno?
> Or a staggering Ted Kennedy, in bad need of Beano?
> My question was answered with a knock, and some sneezing,
> "It's Santa, you moron, lemme in there, I'm freezing!"
>
> I flipped back the dead-bolt and threw the door wide,
> To find St. Nick a'shivvering, Rudolph by his side
> He eyeballed my Springfield, with a nod of approval,
> "You're all set," he said, "for dirtbag removal."
>
> "But this is no raid, we're not here to harm you
> Or persecute, prosecute or even disarm you."
> Instead, said dear Santa, he needed to borrow
> My .357, 'till day after tomorrow
>
> "It's okay," he assured me, with a hint of frustration.
> "I'm enrolled in the National Rifle Association."
> He showed me his card, 'twas a Life Member rating
> "I've had this since me and the missus were dating!"
>
> "And you see, Harry ol' buddy, I've gotten real nervous
> Since Feinstein was elected, with a promise to serve us.
> So henceforth as I'm out there, my presents a'stackin'
> I want to assure you, I'm legally packin'"
>
> "And my gift for you this year, should give you a hoot
> I've told the Supreme Court to give Brady the boot!
> Now, Rudy and I must be on our way,"
> He said, as he climbed back on the seat of his sleigh.
>
> With the reins in his hand, and my Smith in his pocket,
> He jingled the sleighbells and was off like a rocket.
> With a pair of speedloaders, and ammo to spare
> I knew he'd be safe, he was loaded for bear.
>
> As he faded from view, I could still hear him calling
> "From Washington D.C., where 'P.C.' is already falling,
> To bad guys in L.A., Detroit and Atlanta,
> I'm licensed to carry. Don't be messin' with Santa!"
 
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