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'Twas the yak before Christmas, when all through the Lounge
Not a Matcom was stirring, no freepers did grouse
The Herradura bottles were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that LynneSin soon would be there;
The newbies were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of milestones danced in their heads;
And Teena full of mischief, SOteric taking a nap,
Had just stopped a flame war, taking no crap.
When out in GD, there arose such a clatter,
Zomby sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he made sure he did flash,
Tore open his bathrobe and threw open his pants.
Matcom's moon on her breast of Midori did glow
Gave a lustful air all day to their objects below,
When, what to my wandering eyes should appear,
But some freepers to slay, who let them in here?
With MrsGrumpy the mod, so lively and quick,
Tombstoned that asshole, who was pretty damned slick
More rapid and coarser the Lounge Lizards came,
And David whistled, and shouted, and flirted so lame;
"Now, curse10! now, René! now, Velma, and Catshrink!
On, LynneSin! on Maggie! on Skittles and Kade!
To the top of the porch! cranking Pink Floyd The Wall!
Now dash away! smash away! make the freepers all crawl!"
As Lynne opened bottles of Herradura to try
And what goes good with tequila, here's mud in our eye!
So up to the house-top the coarse Loungers they flew
With a trunk full of toys, and Teena's car hood too.
And then I heard tinkling, from up on the roof
Zomby was leaking, and that is the troof.
As he drew in his hand, and was turning around,
Down to the kitchen to get another lime for this round.
Matcom was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with tequila and poot;
A bundle of "toys" he had flung on his back,
And he looked like he just fondled an unwilling yak!
His eyes -- how they're red! His dimples are hairy!
His "cheeks" were like roses, after losing his cherry!
His troll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
As he spelled out again his name in the snow;
The stump of a pipe he fired up in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his brain like a reef
He had an odd face and he stared at the telly,
It shook, when he laughed, and his feet were all smelly.
He was chummy, no grump, like his jolly old self
And I laughed when I saw him, and tripped over myself
In the blink of an eye and a pop to the head,
Soon overcame me this feeling of dread;
We spoke not a word, while ZenLefty avoided his work,
And Kleeb stole our stockings; then called Zomby a jerk,
And laying his finger inside of his nose,
And giving off gas, he didn't smell like a rose;
More freepers to slay, Bush's ass is a whistle
And away our posts flew to that clown like a missile
So hear us exclaim, to a nation in fright,
"HAPPY DEMOCRATS ALL, AND TO YAKS A GOOD-NIGHT!"
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