177 lines
5.5 KiB
Plaintext
177 lines
5.5 KiB
Plaintext
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### ###
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### ###
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### #### ### ### ### ####
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### ### ##### ### ###
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### ### ### ### ###
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### ### ##### ### ###
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########## ### ### ##########
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### ###
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### ###
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Underground eXperts United
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Presents...
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####### ## ## ####### # # ####### ####### #######
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## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ##
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#### ## ## #### # # ####### ####### ## ##
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## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ##
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## ## ####### ####### # # ####### ####### #######
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[ 'Twas the Night Before Christmas ] [ By DIzzIE ]
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____________________________________________________________________
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____________________________________________________________________
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"'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS" ~A VERY DIzzIE VERSION!~
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BY: DIzzIE 2000!
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'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
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not a creature was stirring, for they were all passed out
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or throwing up in the outhouse.
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The landmines were placed in the fireplace with care,
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In hopes that that fat fuck, Santa,
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would soon land his fat as in there.
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The children were nestled in tiny, chopped-up pieces,
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all snug in their body bags under their beds,
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While LSD-induced visions of wild happy murder
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swam in our heads.
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And the weird LSD-induced talking marshmallows,
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and I with my gun,
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Had just settled into our new hummer,
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for some fun hit-and-run.
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When out on the road, right under our car,
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there arose such a clatter,
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I grinded the engine, backing up thoroughly over the,
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now mangled, matter.
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Away to the in-floor window I flew,
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or rather drunkenly stumbled,
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"I can't fucking see anything!"
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I angrily grumbled.
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I opened the car door, and behold what a sight:
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for on that bed of red stained snow,
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I saw lots of carnage and gore,
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and a fat bloody head was beginning to show!
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When what to my cloudy dilated eyes
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should appear,
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But a dead drunken Santa,
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holding an empty six-pack of beer.
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Around him were, eight, yes eight,
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dead little youngsters
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I knew in a long, semi-erotic moment,
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that I killed St.Nick and his special hustlers
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More rapid than my ejaculation,
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his moaning cries came,
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He yelled and he cussed
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and he called his dead children by name:
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"Aaargh, FUDGESTICK! Screw, SHIT-O! Fuck, FUCKER and SUCKER!
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You bitch, HITLER! You've been fucking, NIXON! Kill STALIN and CLINTON!"
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To the top of the porch!
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To the top of the wall!
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He threw up, vomiting internal organs,
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and blood fell on all!
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As dead bodies that during the wild wars
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like hurricanes fly,
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When they meet with an obstacle,
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splatter on into the sky.
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So up on my housetop that drunk fucker
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started to crawl,
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When I wiped out my machete
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and we got in a brawl.
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And then, in a grunting,
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I heard on the ground,
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Was one of the hustlers, faithful Hitler,
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was bitching around.
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As I was slicing and dicing
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that little bitch into Hell,
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Santa stumbled,
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and down the chimney the dumbass fell.
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As I heard the explosions,
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I rushed into the house and saw the Fat One himself!
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He was smelly and bleeding and his costume was burned,
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I knew at once that his head belongs in a bottle on my shelf!
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A bundle of odd humps he had on his back,
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They were pussing and oozing,
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and with my trusty machete
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I gave them a whack.
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His eyes -- how they bulged!
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His screams, how merry!
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His humps were like volcanoes,
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the blood and puss oozing like lava!
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His sad little mouth was twisted in anguish,
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from all the pain that my blow did endow,
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And I ripped off that annoying fucking beard off dirty-ass chin and
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shoved his dumb face right into the cold uncaring hell that was the snow.
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With the stump of the axe I began to hit him in his motherfucking teeth,
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And I turned and twisted his fat rancid neck
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into a meaty Christmas wreath.
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By now, he had his face completely fucked up,
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and I proceeded to fuck with his plump little belly,
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That shook, when he moaned, and nauseated me,
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like that one slut, Kelly.
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He was carved up and dead,
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I tore off every fucking limb!
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And I laughed when he asked me for mercy,
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FUCK HIM!
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A wink of my eye
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and my twist of his head,
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Soon gave him to know
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he had all the world to dread.
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I let him speak not a word, but, carving knife in hand,
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went straight to work,
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I carved up his insides, and ripped out his penis,
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giving a hefty painful jerk.
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Laying his cock on top of his skull,
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And giving a swing with my mighty mallet,
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I smashed it all, and then
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there came a sweet, sweet lull.
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I hauled his fat corpse out to his sleigh,
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and set it all on fire,
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And then I joined in,
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in the blasphemous singing of the unholy choir.
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At last, I grinned and proclaimed,
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as my eyes glazed over and I began to lose sight,
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"This poem has been a bitch to write,
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I wish you all a night full of bed-wetting, a fucking miserable plight!"
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Merry Christmas from DIzzIE, go out and fuck a reindeer!
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email me: xcon0@yahoo.com
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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uXu #590 Underground eXperts United 2001 uXu #590
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http://www.uXu.org/ - info@uxu.org
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