Politically Correct Santa

‘Twas the night before Christmas and Santa’s a wreck…
How to live in a world that’s politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to “Elves”,
“Vertically Challenged” they were calling themselves.

And labor conditions at the north pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.

And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.

Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called “Unenlightened.”
And to show you the strangeness of life’s ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose

And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she’d enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he’d ne’er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.

Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.

Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that’s warlike or non-pacific.

No candy or sweets…they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.

For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football…someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.

Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you’ve got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.

Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;

Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere…even you.
So here is that gift, it’s price beyond worth…
“May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth.”

Notice:  This poem is copyright 1992 by Harvey Ehrlich.  It is free to
distribute, without changes, as long as this notice remains intact.
All follow-ups, requests, comments, questions, distribution rights, etc
should be made to  mduhan@husc.harvard.edu .  Happy Holidays!

Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,

You must be surprised that I’m writing you today, the 26th of December. Well, I would very much like to clear up certain things that have occurred since the beginning of the month! (While filled with illusion I wrote you this letter) I asked for a bicycle, an electric train set, a pair of roller blades, and a football uniform.

I destroyed my brain studying the whole year! Not only was I the first in my class, but I had the best grades in the whole school. I’m not going to lie to you Santa, there was no one in my entire neighborhood that behaved better than me. With my parents, my brothers, my friends and with my neighbors, I would go on errands and even help the elderly cross the street.

There was virtually nothing I wouldn’t do for humanity!

WHAT BALLS YOU HAVE LEAVING ME A FUCKING YO-YO, A STUPID ASS WHISTLE, AND A PAIR OF SOCKS! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, YOU FAT SON OF A BITCH, THAT YOU’VE TAKEN ME FOR A SUCKER THE WHOLE FUCKING YEAR, TO COME OUT WITH SOME SHIT LIKE THIS UNDER THE DAMN TREE. AS IF YOU HADN’T FUCKED ME ENOUGH, YOU GAVE THAT LITTLE SHITHEAD ACROSS THE STREET SO MANY FUCKING TOYS, THAT HE CAN’T EVEN WALK INTO HIS DAMN HOUSE!

PLEASE DON’T LET ME SEE YOU TRYING TO FIT YOUR BIG FAT ASS DOWN MY CHIMNEY NEXT YEAR! “I’LL FUCK YOU UP!” I’LL THROW ROCKS AT THOSE STUPID ASS REINDEERS OF YOURS, AND SCARE THEM THE FUCK AWAY, SO YOU’LL HAVE TO WALK YOUR BIG FAT ASS BACK TO THE NORTHPOLE, JUST LIKE I HAVE TO DO SINCE YOU DIDN’T GET ME THAT FUCKING BIKE, YOU PUNK BITCH!!

YOU KNOW WHAT SANTA, FUCK YOU!! NEXT YEAR YOU’LL FIND OUT HOW BAD I CAN REALLY FUCKING BE…YOU’VE BEEN SLEEPING ON A MOTHERFUCKER FAR TOO LONG!

SO WATCH YOUR BACK NEXT YEAR, YOU FAT BITCH!

Sincerely,

Little Johnny

The Christmas Song

T’WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS        

AND ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE                          

EVERYBODY FELT SHITTY

EVEN THE MOUSE…    

                                              

               

MUM AT THE WHOREHOUSE

AND DAD SMOKING GRASS

I’D JUST SETTLED DOWN

FOR A NICE PIECE OF ASS

                  

WHEN OUT ON THE LAWN

I HEARD SUCH A CLATTER

I SPRUNG FROM MY PLACE

TO SEE WHAT’S THE MATTER

                   

THEN OUT ON THE LAWN

I SAW A BIG DICK

I KNEW AT THAT MOMENT

IT MUST BE SAINT NICK…

                     

HE CAME DOWN THE CHIMNEY

LIKE A BAT OUT OF HELL

I KNEW AT THAT MOMENT

THE FUCKER HAD FELL

                       

HE FILLED ALL OUR STOCKINGS

WITH PRETZELS AND BEER

AND A BIG RUBBER DICK

FOR MY BROTHER THE QUEER

                       

HE ROSE UP THE CHIMNEY

WITH A THUNDEROUS FART

THE SON OF A BITCH

BLEW THE CHIMNEY APART

HE SWORE AND HE CURSED

AS HE RODE OUT OF SIGHT

PISS ON YOU ALL

AND HAVE A HELL OF A NIGHT!!!!