by zonistonate (Tue Dec 25 2007 02:06:01) | |
UPDATED Fri Jan 4 2008 02:48:21 |
Letter to St. Nick
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the steid,
no' a creature was stirring, no' aiven the dead.
Fer 'twas bonnie old Scotland an' cold as she be
an' thare sat our own downcast GB under mum's tree.
"Ah've been good, ah've been bad, ah've been all o'er the place,
an' aiven some o' ma friends think ah've been a disgrace.
Ah'm still pushin' that old loadstone up ma own hill
and ah'm trying so hard tae improve ma sittin' still skills.
So ah'm writin' ye Santa, St. Nick or whatever...
aiven though sometimes some think ah've the gift to be clever,
some people just na'er seem willin' tae give me a break
and ah wish some would realize that this is MA cake.
An' ah'd like just tae eat it an' enjoy it too,
without havin' tae explain every damned thing that ah do, fer it's startin tae make me quite cranky ah'd say
tae wake up and see who ah'm fuckin' or no' fuckin' each day.
If ma life had so many a winsome, sweet wench,
ah'd be much more relaxed and ma jaws ah'd no' clench.
But in truith, ah'm no' quite the big smooth operator
an' tis much more likely a lass saying...'Good nicht, see ye later!'
What ah'm askin' fer Nick, tis no' so hard tae grant... Just some kindness, some love an', okay, special pants
that will fit through the thighs an' will fit in the arse
an' will squeeze ma wee boy when ma mouth gets too crass.
Fer ye know ah have problems wi' keepin it shut,
when ma publicist says ah should be quiet as King Tut.
Tis a case o' exuberance gone run amok
an' ah seem tae be havin' the same problem wi' ma co_ck!
Sae dear Nick ah wud ask fer some skills that ah'm cravin'.
The power tae be good an' tae stop misbehavin'.
Though deep doon in ma hairt ah just really got tae tell ye,
that ah'm no' goin' fer sainthood, no' NOW an' no' EVER!
An' ah've just one more thing oan ma list left tae ask ye.
Wud ye bring me a bag full o' fairy dust sparklies
ah kin sprinkle all o'er me when ah'm tired an' ah'm scruffy
sae ah kin leuk like the old me, even when ah leuk puffy.
Kis ah'm tired as hell readin how fast ah am aging,
every time ah tarn aroun' an' it sets ma pulse a raging.
So along wi 'the dust ah would ask ye to be so kind
to deliver all o' ma lovin fans a swift kick on their behinds."
Yers truly,
GB
P.S. "An' no camel sh_it please, as ah've really no' been THAT bad!"
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