Merry Christmas!

Okay, first thing's first - I don't actually like Christmas very much. It's International Rack Up Some Debt day, and the whole thing irritates me to no end.

Now that I've got that off my chest, I'll add that I do respect the fact that, whether it's for the love of family, the love of presents or the love of the Baby Jesus, a lot of other people go absolutely fucking nuts over Christmas. And I shouldn't shit on that, because that would be douchey and decidedly un-Christmas-esque. So ... merry Xmas/Happy Holidays/whatever! I hope you and your families have a nice dinner wherein none of the proffered dishes are gross in any manner, and no one gets hammered and fights with other family members. I hope that you remain safe and sound through the holidays, and you don't do anything fucking stupid and kill yourselves. Can you do that for me? Hah? Good.

Well, last year I wrote a Christmas poem, and I thought it was kinda cute and stuff, so ... I'm reposting it. Cuz I was busy with other shit and didn't write something new - so if you've already read this, get off my back, already. I'll have something new next year, I promise.

The Krampus Came Instead

Santa didn't come to see us last night

The Krampus came instead

He came down the chimney with a burlap sack

And stole us all from our beds

Now, the Krampus is a horrid sight

A sight that cannot be unseen

He's short and squat and hairy and fat

A foul and devilish fiend

The Krampus lives in a dank old cave

Full of bats, pale toads and rats

The floor is littered with pajamas and bones

And the carpets are made out of cats

As Santa rides upon his sleigh

On a cold and crisp Christmas eve

The Krampus rides a rotting mule

And he punishes all your misdeeds

He leaves no gifts behind in his wake

He feels no love in his heart

His teeth are sharp and his eyes are red

And his claws will tear you apart

Santa eats cookies and sugar-plum pie

A man eats meat, cheese and bread

But the Krampus feasts on naughty children

And uses their skins for his bed

And their souls he keeps all for himself

He keeps them locked up in a box

And what happens to them? Nobody knows

Maybe he wears them as socks!

Santa didn't come to see us last night

The Krampus came instead

To bite us and beat us, kick us and bleed us

And then he chopped off our heads!


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