A Redneck Christmas
Author Unknown

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the trailer
Not a creature was stirrin' 'cept a redneck named Taylor.
His first name was Bubba, Joe was his middle,
And a-runnin' down his chinWas a trickle of spittle.

His socks, they were hung by the chimney with care,
And therefore there was a foul stench in the air.
From out in the yard there came such a noise
That Bubba got scared and rousted the boys.

There was Rufus, 12; Jim Bob was 11;
Dud goin' on 10; Otis was 7.
John, George and Chucky were 5,4, and 3:
The twins were both girls so they just let them be.

They jumped in their overalls, no need for a shirt,
Threw a hat on each head, then turned with a jerk.
They ran to the gun rack that hung on the wall.
There were 17 shotguns; they grabbed them all.

Bubba said to the young'uns, "Now hesh up ya'll!
The last thing we wanna do is wake up yer Maw."
Maw was expecting and needed her sleep,
So out they crept out the door without making a peep.

They all looked around, and then they all spit.
The young'uns asked Bubba, "Paw, what is it?"
Bubba just stared; he could not say a word.
This was just like all of the stories he'd heard.

It was Santy Claus up on the roof, darn tootin'
But the boys didn't know; they was about to start shootin'!
They aimed their shotguns and nearly made a mistake
That would have resulted in venison steak.

Bubba hollered out, "Don't shoot, boys!"
That's Santy Claus and he's brought us some toys.
The dogs were a-barkin' and a-raisin' cain,
And Bubba whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.

"Down, Spot! Shut up Bullet! Quiet, Pete and Roscoe!
Git, Turnip and Tater and Sam and old Joe!"
"Git down from that porch! Git down off that wall!
Quit shakin the trailer, or you'll make Santy fall!"

The dogs kept a-barkin' and wouldn't shut up,
And they trampled poor Pete who was only a pup.
Santy opened his bag, and threw out some toys.
Bubba got most, but left a few for the boys.

From up on the roof Santa heaved a great sigh.
Since the guns had been dropped he just might not die.
He jumped in his sleigh, told his reindeer to hurry.
The trailer started to wobble Santa started to worry.

Just as the reindeer got into the air,
The trailer collapsed, but Bubba didn't care.
He was busy lookin' at all his new toys.
Then a thought hit him, and he said to the boys:

"Go check on yer Maw, make sure she's all right.
That roof fallin' on her could-a hurt just a might."
But Maw was OK, and the girls were too.
They fixed up the trailer; it looked good as new.

And as for Bubba, he liked Old St. Nick,
But Santa thought Bubba was a pure-in-tee hick!
Bubba had a nice Christmas, and the boys did, too.
And the Taylors wish a Merry Christmas to you!

'Twas the Night For Assembling
Holiday humor from Kellie Head

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except me and my spouse

The stockings were empty, no presents were wrapped
We were way behind schedule and our resources tapped

The children were nestled all snug in the beds
While the horrors of assembling danced in our heads

Dad armed with a screwdriver, ready and poised
To build a red trike for one of our boys

When off in the hall there arose a strange noise
We dove over boxes to hide all the toys

The thud, it turned out, was our dumb puppy Paul
Who was chasing the cat and ran into the wall

Back to his task, Dad cursed at his mess
I suspect he was lost, but he'd never confess

He wrestled with parts and fumbled with tools
Emailed the manufacturer and called them all fools.

After hours of struggle, the bike finally took shape
With a few cuts and bruises and the aid of duct tape

He stood back and gaped at the bike he just built
It weaved and it wobbled and rolled with a tilt

His frustration grew; his voice shook as he spoke
"The directions are Greek, it's all a sick joke!"

At this point he snapped, his thinking unclear
He'll do something stupid; this was my big fear.

He grabbed each toy's instructions, oh why won't he learn
Tossed them into the fire, chanting "burn baby burn"

"Burn Disney, burn Huffy, to blazes with you
Burn Fisher Price, Playskool and Hasbro, too"

As smoke filled the room, this was his first clue
That in a moment of haste, he had neglected the flue

"My husband's a good man," I tried to explain
"The instructions weren't clear. It drove him insane"

The fire chief nodded and gathered his crew
Hopped onto their truck and away they all flew

But I heard them converse as they drove out of sight
"Her husband's the third jerk who's done that tonight!"

The Night before Christmas for MOMs

'Twas was the night before Christmas, when all thru the abode,
only one creature was stirring, and she was cleaning the commode.
The children were finally sleeping, all snug in their beds,
while visions of Nintendo 64 and Barbie, flipped through their heads.

The dad was snoring in front of the TV,
with a half-constructed bicycle on his knee.
So only the mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
which made her sigh, "Now what's the matter?"

With toilet bowl brush still clutched in her hand,
she descended the stairs, and saw the old man.
He was covered with ashes and soot, which fell with a shrug.
"Oh great," muttered the mom, "Now I have to clean the rug."

"Ho-ho-ho!" cried Santa, "I'm glad you're awake."
"Your gift was especially difficult to make."
"Thanks, Santa, but all I want is some time alone."
"Exactly!" he chuckled, "I've made you a clone."
 
"A clone?" she asked, "What good is that?
Run along, Santa, I've no time for chit-chat."

The mother's twin. Same hair, same eyes,
same double chin. "She'll cook, she'll dust, "
she'll mop every mess. You'll relax, take it easy,
watch The Young & the Restless." "Fantastic!" the mom cheered.
"My dream come true! "I'll shop. I'll read., I'll sleep a whole night
through! "

From the room above, the youngest began to fret.
"Mommy?! I scared... and I 'm wet."

The clone replied, "I'm coming, sweetheart."
"Hey," the mom smiled, "She knows her part."
The clone changed the small one, and hummed a tune,
as she bundled the child, in a blanket cocoon.

"You the best mommy ever. " I really love you."
The clone smiled and sighed, "I love you, too."
The mom frowned and said, "Sorry, Santa, no deal. "
That's my child's love, she's trying to steal."

Smiling wisely Santa said, "To me it is clear, "
Only one loving mother, is needed here."

The mom kissed her child, and tucked her into bed.
"Thank you, Santa, " for clearing my head.
I sometimes forget, it won't be very long,
when they'll be too old, for my cradle-song."

The clock on the mantle began to chime.
Santa whispered to the clone, "It works every time."
With the clone by his side Santa said, "Goodnight.
Merry Christmas, Mom, You'll be all right.

The Tex-Mex Night Before Christmas
Written by:  Jim and Nita Lee, Dec. 1972
  

---

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the casa,
Not a creature ws stirring -- Caramba! Que pasa?
Los ninos were tucked away in their camas,
Some in long underwear, some in pajamas,

While hanging the stockings with mucho cuidado
In hopes that old Santa would feel obligado
To bring all children, both buenos and malos,
A nice batch of dulces and other regalos.

Outside in the yard there arose such a grito
That I jumped to my feet like a frightened cabrito.
I ran to the window and looked out afuera,
And who in the world do you think that it era?

Saint Nick in a sleigh and a big red sombrero
Came dashing along like a crazy bombero.
And pulling his sleigh instead of venados
Were eight little burros approaching volados.

I watched as they came and this quaint little hombre
Was shouting and whistling and calling by nombre:
"Ay Pancho, ay Pepe, ay Cuco, ay Beto,
Ay Chato, ay Chopo, Macuco, y Nieto!"

Then standing erect with his hands on his pecho
He flew to the top of our very own techo.
With his round little belly like a bowl of jalea,
He struggled to squeeze down our old chiminea,

Then huffing and puffing at last in our sala,
With soot smeared all over his red suit de gala,
He filled all the stockings with lovely regalos --
For none of the ninos had been very malos.

Then chuckling aloud, seeming very contento,
He turned like a flash and was gone like the viento.
And I heard him exclaim, and this is verdad,
Merry Christmas to all, and Feliz Navidad!

Computer's Night Before
Author Unknown

T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the shop,
The computers were whirring; they never do stop.
The power was on and the temperature right,
In hopes that the input would feed back that night.

The system was ready, the program was coded,
And memory drums had been carefully loaded;
While adding a Christmasy glow to the scene,
The lights on the console, flashed red, white and green.

When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
The programmer ran to see what was the matter.
Away to the hallway he flew like a flash,
Forgetting his key in his curious dash.

He stood in the hallway and looked all about,
When the door slammed behind him, and he was locked out.

Then, in the computer room what should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer;
And a little old man, who with scarcely a pause,
Chuckled: "My name is Santa...the last name is Claus."

The computer was startled, confused by the name,
Then it buzzed as it heard the old fellow exclaim:
"This is Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen,
And Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen."

With all these odd names, it was puzzled anew;
It hummed and it clanked, and a main circuit blew.
It searched in its memory core, trying to "think";
Then the multi-line printer went out on the blink.

Unable to do its electronic job,
It said in a voice that was almost a sob:
"Your eyes - how they twinkle - your dimples so merry,
Your cheeks so like roses, your nose like a cherry,

Your smile - all these things, I've been programmed to know,
And at data-recall, I am more than so-so;
But your name and your address (computers can't lie),
Are things that I just cannot identify.

You've a jolly old face and a little round belly,
That shakes when you laugh like a bowlful of jelly;
My scanners can see you, but still I insist,
Since you're not in my program, you cannot exist!"

Old Santa just chuckled a merry "ho, ho",
And sat down to type out a quick word or so.
The keyboard clack-clattered, its sound sharp and clean,
As Santa fed this "data" to the machine:

"Kids everywhere know me; I come every year;
The presents I bring add to everyone's cheer;
But you won't get anything - that's plain to see;
Too bad your programmers forgot about me."

Then he faced the machine and said with a shrug,
"Merry Christmas to All," as he pulled out its plug!

Navy Night Before Christmas 
By Major Bruce Lovely
(Printed in the Fort Leavenworth Lamp, 1995)

'Twas the night before Christmas, he lived in a crowd.
In a 40 man berthing, with shipmates so loud.
I had come down the exhaust stack with presents to give,
And to see just who in this rack did live.

I look all about, a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stockings were hung, just boots close at hand
On the bulkhead hung pictures of far distant lands.

He had medals and badges and awards of all kind,
And a sober thought came into my mind.
For this place was different, it was so dark and dreary,
I had found the house of a Sailor, once I could see clearly.

The Sailor lay sleeping, silent and alone,
Curled up in his rack, dreaming of home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured a United States Sailor.

Was this the hero whom I saw on TV?
Defending his country so we could be free?
I realized the families that I saw this night,
Owed their lives to these Sailors who were willing to fight.

Soon 'round the world, the children would play,
And grownups would celebrate bright Christmas Day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
Because of the Sailor, like the one lying here.

I couldn't help but wonder how many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve at sea, far from home.
The very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.

The Sailor awakened and I heard a soft voice,
"Santa don't cry for this life is my choice.
Defend the seas this day, so others may rejoice."

The Sailor rolled over and drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours so silent, so still, <BR. And we both shivered from the night?s cold chill.

I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark
night, this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the Sailor rolled over and with a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, "Carry on Santa, it's Christmas Day, all is secure."

The Original 'Twas the Night Before Christmas'
by Clement C. Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the windowI flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

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

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"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!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas 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;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

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,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."