Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Try Not To Offend Anyone, Okay?


The following is a repost from several years ago.  Well, I wrote it several years ago.  And I put it on Blogger last year and...the year before that.  I think.  I did update it a little bit (for those of you who may have read it last year, see if you can find where).

 
"I trip on one of these effin' dogs, I'm suing the batcrap out of somebody.
Liposuction ain't gonna pay for itself, ya know.
And where are my pants?"


Have a Holly Jolly, Politically Correct Christmas Holiday
By
C. Clement Moore (?)

With apologies to Major Henry Livingston, Jr.:*

Twas the Night Before December 25th

‘Twas the night before December 25th, when all through the place of residence (be it house, teepee, shopping cart, or refrigerator carton).
Not a creature was stirring, not even a sentient life form known as a rodent (which has every right to live wherever it chooses).
The government-issued condoms were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that a federal official soon would be there.

The children of the multi-diverse family unit were nestled by Family Services all snug in their beds,
while visions of non-dairy, non-sugar, non-peanut, non-caffeine, non-fat, non-transfats, non-threatening tofu plums danced “With the Stars” in their heads.
And my life partner in a hyperbaric chamber and I in my neoprene bubble
had drifted to sleep, with nary any trouble.

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed (which I selfishly bought at IKEA while millions slept on grates), to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I feared that I’d spy
A Weiner, a Biden, a Napolitano “guy.”

The moon, on the Miley Cyrus breast of the new-fallen snow
gave the luster of midday to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a “little people” sleigh and eight height-challenged reindeer.

With a stature-limited seasoned-citizen driver, so lively and quick,
I knew it must be that Person of Androgynous Reknown, Nikita, Nick...
or some other such prick.
More rapid than endangered eagles, her/his coursers they came
and she/he whistled and shouted and called them by name (though not as subservients; rather as equals in the mutual exchange of commerce).

“Now Twerker! Lap Dancer!
Elton, you Prancer and Nixon!
Obama! Ted Danson!
On, Lindsay and Mel Gibson!
To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Now, dash away, but only if you’re physically able and don’t feel threatened by it all!”

As dry leaves before the hurricane fly,
which plugs up the levees because Bush wants you to die,
so to the subsidized housing the hoofed business partners
with a sleigh full of capitalist loot stolen from me and from you!

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, I turned and I saw
Nikita/Nick and her/his attorney-at-law.

She/he was dressed in synthetic fur, from her/his head to her/his foot,
and her/his clothes were all tarnished with the tracings of soot on her/his tush,
a carcinogen and by-product of the evil exploitation of majestic trees by Bush.
A bundle of toys she/he had tossed in a sack
and I KNEW I was liable if she/he busted her/his back!

But, there was no worry, I had not a care!
Oh, crap, what did you say?
She/he had Obamacare!?

Her/his eyes--how they twinkled!  Her/his dimples, how merry!
Her/his cheeks like BOTOX balloons, her/his nose like a cherry!
It was obvious with him/her I should not be alone
this creepy, suspicious Sandusky clone.
Her/his droll little mouth was drawn up no, not in a frown
from some anonymous, “tsk-tsking” government clown.
The stump of a pipe she/he had just for effect
as she/he showed me her/his nicotine patch on her/his neck.
She/he had a broad face and a little round belly
that shook when she/he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

(NOTE: the American Medical Association strongly urges a lifestyle which eliminates the existence of “little round bellies”, as they may lead to diabetes, high blood pressure, tourettes, heart attack, an “unfresh” feeling, stroke, erectile dysfunction, skin rashes, halitosis, driving heavy equipment while drowsy, and rickets.)

She/he was chubby and plump (see NOTE above), a right jolly old fairy/troll/forest nymph/dwarf/Michael Moore/multi-diverse personage of varying-yet valuable-ethnic persuasion/wood sprite/Oprah/elf,
and I laughed when I saw her/him, in spite of myself (although, to avoid being sued, I said I was laughing “with”, not “at”, her/him).
A wink of her/his eye and a twist of her/his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

She/he spoke not a word, but went straight to her/his work
and filled all the condoms, when allowed by her/his attorney-the aforementioned jerk.
The gifts, she/he explained, were crafted by midgets
Err...”little people” those over-sensitive fidgets.
To insult them, she/he knew, will just make them sour
When, after New Years, they return back to work
at McDonalds for $15.00 an hour.

And laying her/his finger on the side (not in) of her/his nose,
and giving a nod, up the chimney/window/teepee smoke hole she/he rose.
She/he sprang to her/his sleigh, to her/his team gave a whistle,
and they mutually agreed in committee to fly as equals away like the down of a thistle.
But, I heard her/him exclaim, ‘ere she/he drove out of sight.

“Happy Non-Sectarian Day-of-Observance-Which-Has-Nothing-To-Do-With-An-Established-Creed-Or-Dogma-of-Faith-Because-That-Would-Be-a-Heinous-Violation-of-the-Sanctity-of-the-Separation-of-Church-and-State-Because-What-About-the-Children-Dammit!? and to all a mutually-satisfying (as agreed upon in writing. In triplicate. By the ACLU.) night!”    

    *Evidently, Clement Clark Moore is the 19th century equivalent of the New York Times’ Jayson Blair**.  A classic since its 1823 appearance in the Troy Sentinel, ‘A Visit From St. Nicholas’ (as it was alternately known) was claimed by Moore as his own in 1837, conveniently after Livingston had passed away.  In fact, Moore, who wasn’t known by any other poem, incorporated the work into one of his own books, Poems, in 1844!  So, the next time you’re tempted to fret and bemoan our lack of journalistic scruples, just remember Moore’s response when asked if he had, indeed, written this most-famous of Yuletide poems:  “Uh, yeah, whatever.”
    Or, so I’ve read on the Internet.  Because, after all, if it’s there, it must be true! 

**Like I said, this is a repost, so the inclusion of Jayson Blair may leave you scratching your head.  Mr. Blair was pinched several years ago for being a plagiarist.  A plagiarist, of course, is someone who tries to pawn off someone else’s work as his own without giving credit to the actual author.  You know, a lot like Joe Biden.  There, how ‘bout that?  Timely and funny.

***I’m not so sure this is very timely anymore.  But, I managed to include a “twerking” reference.  You’re welcome.

38 comments:

  1. Is prick PC? In the world of politics, it may be correct. But, I'm still not sure.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ohhhhh....you're right! Maybe I should have said 'dork'?

      Delete
  2. Are Miley Cyrus's breasts as cold as snow? That would increase their attraction for me - I'd use them as a headache cure. I'm glad you got in a fat joke about Oprah. Do you know if anyone has spanked her fat ass?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I don't know if they're cold or not. But, they sure do make my snowballs tingle.

      Delete
  3. Thank you for starting my holiday on a note of political correctness, even if it does make me feel a bit queasy. Of course that could be the result of the spiked eggnog I'm drinking.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Except they're now using tofu eggs. Think of the baby chickens!

      Delete
  4. hahaha always fun picking at the dumb PC, and also nice of you to throw in the warning at your sea.

    Wait err ummm, a re-comment. i added an extra "ha" to it though lol

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I was wondering why you went over your "ha" allotment.

      Delete
  5. So let's see if I get this right...Twerker the reindeer, Nikita/nick having Obamacare and the $15 McDonalds wages are all additions to the 2013 version of this post!

    ReplyDelete
  6. I'm offended. No mention of NJ, Chris Christie, or Hoboken. This was priceless! You are too funny.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, where are my manners?
      Then as the children awokened.
      They saw a fat man swilling doughnuts
      in that jewel of New Jersey: Hoboken.

      Delete
    2. "Stop eating our donuts!" they shouted.
      The Guv just said, "FUGEDDABOUDIT!"

      Delete
  7. Merry Saturnalia and to all a good night!

    ReplyDelete
  8. You encapsulate much that is wrong in western societies.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Very entertaining!

    Though I did find it totally offensive! How dare you use nothing but words! As an illiterate I find that offensive!! How am I able to type this?

    Merr- er "An emotion above average, though not to imply feeling sad is bad", on the 25th day of the twelfth month!!

    aka Merry Christmas!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I know-I usually go picture-heavy, but I felt that the written word was more valuable.
      Or I was lazy.
      Your call.

      Delete
  10. Oh snap, I was born with a round belly

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. But, do you have a corn cob pipe and a button nose?
      Oh, darn it, wrong Christmas character.

      Delete
  11. I am so offended by your lack of offending!!!

    ReplyDelete
  12. I take no offense. I've already fall on the post

    ReplyDelete
  13. Genius! Happy holidays! (But if you're not feeling happy, you shouldn't judge yourself. Just accept where you are.)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And I will accept myself in a bottle on Christmas Eve.
      It's how I roll.

      Delete
  14. tourettes? really? Love this, thanks for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  15. I remembered this and I loved it back then like I do today, I also didn't get offended buddy, Christmas is coming so soon, where has this year gone?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Time sure has flown. In fact, I've noticed I now have one of those old man turkey necks.
      What a drag it is getting old.
      I think I heard that once.

      Delete
  16. I'm pretty sure I grew up in this neighborhood. Which explains a lot about my personality.

    Hugs!

    Valerie

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You're from the Northeast, I'm from the Northeast. This may explain the both of us.

      Delete
  17. When will the side effects from just reading this kick in? Will I be swearing and feeling "unfresh" during the holidays, or will I just have a little extra soot on my tush? In any case, it was worth it! Great new additions too, Al!

    Julie

    ReplyDelete
  18. I guess the appearance of Miley Cyrus must be the update. Cause last year (or maybe the year before) it might not have been legal to mention the little strumpet in that manner. happy holidays!

    ReplyDelete
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