By Greg (Vostromo)
Image courtesy of FreakingNews.com
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except Ozzy Osbourne,
Who couldn’t find the bathroom;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Clay Aiken soon would be there, so we could shut him up.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Miley Cyrus danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
Rather than listen to “Party in the USA” one more time.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up on the sash,
Because you shouldn’t get up that quickly after so much mead.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wandering eyes should appear,
But Marisa Tomei, Elisha Cuthbert, Lucy Liu,
Sarah Silverman, Jennifer Connelly, Katie Holmes,
Milla Jovovich, Kelly Brook, Tyra Banks,
Christina Applegate, Teri Hatcher, and —
Is that Don Cheadle? wtf? —
So I was feeling pret-t-ty good. Note to self: buy more mead.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Ted Nugent;
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name,
And I’m pretty sure he was thinking:
“Man, what a waste of some perfectly good flank steaks!”
“Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONDER and BLITZEN!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!
There’s a fully functioning handicapped-accessible toilet
Half a mile away in the strip mall, you can’t make it that far?
I am NOT cleaning all this up every damn year!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle,
Like Britney Spears in her heavier phases, they mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and CS Lewis, too,
So maybe he was onto something.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof —
No, wait, that’s just Bette Midler.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Keith Richards came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
So clearly he’d been high for hours already. Quel surprise.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
I have GOT to lay off the late-night mead!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
‘Cause suddenly it all made sense: Keith Richards was Santa Claus!
That must be what “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” was really about!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know he was still banging twenty-year-olds.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings with autographed copies of “Life”;
Then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
I thought, good thing I used that creosote-removing log earlier in the week.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“I’m Sagittarius, half-man, half-horse,
with a license to **** in the street!
Merry Keithmas to all!”
And to all, a Good Night.
What would Keith Richards Do by Jessica Pallington West
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by Jamie Marie Hall
Tags: Members
Merry Keithmas? Mick will want equal billing.
Love it Greg!
Just so’s ya know, that’s an actual Keith quote, that.
The original author was my 4th cousin, 8 times removed. I would like to think she’d be tickled that Greg bastardized her work into a funny 😉 As a Sagittarius, I don’t know whether to be tickled or offended!
Her work? I thought it was either Clement Clarke Moore or Henry Livingston?