D
DeerKing
Guest
If you've been around here for a while or gotten to know me, you understand I have a pretty warped sense of humor. This does nothing to dispute that.
I know its a day early but....
TWAS the night before Christmas, on the hunting site
Not a member was posting, all asleep for the night.
The keyboards were quiet, the monitors were black
This is one time, Cass wouldn't catch flack.
The posters were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of big bucks, died in their heads.
But I was at the computer, typing like mad
The only mouse stirring, was the one on my pad.
When out in the yard, a shot was heard
I rushed to the window without a word.
I opened the shutters and looked down on the ground
There was old Dawg and his flea bitten hound.
Lion?s not in season, and neither is bear
Leave it to a mutt guy, to not give a care.
They?d treed a kitty, one orange and fat
Dawg wasn?t to happy about the wise crackin? cat
Back to the computer, I had surfing at hand
Reading about hunts, some of them canned.
MonsterMuleys is fun, a great place to lurk
Seeing familiar friends, or an unregistered jerk.
You?ll read outrageous stories, some even true
The dead little forkie, that grew and grew.
By the end of the yarn, the buck is hawg
Till the pictures were lost, like a boat in the fog.
Some post photos, some tell a good tale
Poachers are some, may they end up in jail.
You?ll see a cast of characters, a parody of themselves
Some macho as ever, some gay as elves
There?s Buckspy as the Grinch, Huntsonora as Santa
The gift exchange had me chugging Mylanta
I sent a present, and received one as well
But an embroidered quilt, what the he11?
On BC, OSOK, Bura and Sask,
Others in a stupor, from tipping the flask.
When up to the screen top, my eyes flew
Someone was here, who had to much brew.
His grammar was bad, his typing was poor
No matter to me, I'd seen it before.
It might have been OldOregon, I feared he was back
From his date with an inflatable, and empty six-pack
His eyes probably glazed, his ale filled belly
That shook when he farted, like a bowl full of jelly.
I just ignored him, and went back to my post
Talking big muleys, its what I like most.
Now my fingers are tired, my eyes are red
A sip of eggnog and its off to bed.
Its been a long night, and my rhyming still rocks,
If you don't like what I wrote, I'll go to the tool box.....
Merry Xmas everyone!
I know its a day early but....
TWAS the night before Christmas, on the hunting site
Not a member was posting, all asleep for the night.
The keyboards were quiet, the monitors were black
This is one time, Cass wouldn't catch flack.
The posters were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of big bucks, died in their heads.
But I was at the computer, typing like mad
The only mouse stirring, was the one on my pad.
When out in the yard, a shot was heard
I rushed to the window without a word.
I opened the shutters and looked down on the ground
There was old Dawg and his flea bitten hound.
Lion?s not in season, and neither is bear
Leave it to a mutt guy, to not give a care.
They?d treed a kitty, one orange and fat
Dawg wasn?t to happy about the wise crackin? cat
Back to the computer, I had surfing at hand
Reading about hunts, some of them canned.
MonsterMuleys is fun, a great place to lurk
Seeing familiar friends, or an unregistered jerk.
You?ll read outrageous stories, some even true
The dead little forkie, that grew and grew.
By the end of the yarn, the buck is hawg
Till the pictures were lost, like a boat in the fog.
Some post photos, some tell a good tale
Poachers are some, may they end up in jail.
You?ll see a cast of characters, a parody of themselves
Some macho as ever, some gay as elves
There?s Buckspy as the Grinch, Huntsonora as Santa
The gift exchange had me chugging Mylanta
I sent a present, and received one as well
But an embroidered quilt, what the he11?
On BC, OSOK, Bura and Sask,
Others in a stupor, from tipping the flask.
When up to the screen top, my eyes flew
Someone was here, who had to much brew.
His grammar was bad, his typing was poor
No matter to me, I'd seen it before.
It might have been OldOregon, I feared he was back
From his date with an inflatable, and empty six-pack
His eyes probably glazed, his ale filled belly
That shook when he farted, like a bowl full of jelly.
I just ignored him, and went back to my post
Talking big muleys, its what I like most.
Now my fingers are tired, my eyes are red
A sip of eggnog and its off to bed.
Its been a long night, and my rhyming still rocks,
If you don't like what I wrote, I'll go to the tool box.....
Merry Xmas everyone!
