"Canadian `Youngun`"  bor3113
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Welland, Canada
Joined: Mar 2008 |
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| I am alive too. Finally got settled into Newfoundland, but am still on dial-up ... slowwwww!
Good to see you're still on Forum!
My Poem about Santa in Newfoundland:
SANTA COMES TO NEWFOUNDLAND
T'was the night before Christmas and all through the house,
There were empties and butts left by a drunk Newfie louse.
The Fifth of Screech I hid by the chimney with care,
Had been drunk by some bum who discovered it there.
My chums had long since been poured into their beds,
To later wake up later with lead in their heads.
My cotton mouth tongue hung down to my lap,
I was dying for one more rum filled night cap.
Then through the north window there came such a yell,
I lurched from my vomit to see what the hell.
And what to my rummy old eyes should appear,
But a sleigh full of booze and eight drunken reindeer
The little old driver had the look of a Hick,
Then I saw it was Santa, as tight as a tick.
Stumbling, the eight reindeer fumbled and came,
As Santa belched out and called them by name:
"On Brandy, on Vodka", "We aint got all night."
"You, Gin and Rare Bourbon, let's get it just right."
"Get up on the roof, get the hell off the wall."
"Get moving, drunk deer, we have a long haul."
"Wake up Tequila, get on you Beer deer"'
"Off your butt Cheap Wino, we have to spread cheer."
"Up and away old Whiskey of Scotland,
we have to cover all of Newfoundland".
So up on the roof went the reindeer and truck,
But a tree branch hit Santa before he could duck.
Drunk Nick came tumbling down from above
'Vodka' had given him a little hoof shove.
So I pulled in my head and snapped a fresh beer.
Down the chimney he fell, smack onto his rear.
He was dressed in red jeans, with moose fur for a trim
By the way that he swayed, he was filled to the brim.
He had pints and fifths in the sack on his back,
And a breath that would knock a train off its track.
He was chubby and plump as he leaned to the right,
He didn't fool me, he was as high as a kite.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work.
He pissed in the stockings, the plastered old jerk.
Then putting his finger along side his nose,
He gave me the bird and up the chimney he rose.
He sprang for his sleigh at so hasty a pace,
He tripped on the gutter and fell flat on his face.
Then I heard him mumble in almost a leer,
Merry Christmas you Newfies, and a boozing good year.
The very next morning, I was up fixing my roof,
My house had holes in it made by a hoof.
I washed out my socks, thank you dear Santa Claus
Don't stop here again, don't even just pause! |
I made my TFS layout using Pimp-My-Profile.com |
I'm Alive!
But now I'm back and ready to get back to a normal TFS life ( 
I called it "normal" 
July 07, 2008 @ 04:36:49 pm
