LAST EDITED ON Dec-23-13 AT 04:26PM (MST)[p]It's a bit early but I doubt I will have time tomorrow to post this before heading to the in-laws.
Hope you all have a great Christmas.
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
Twas the night before Christmas, in the Clubhouse,
A whole bunch of men, and nary a spouse.
The guys were all hung, with no underwear,
In hopes to garner, a smile and stare.
Some colorful faces, turning blues and reds,
Because of the visions, dancing in their heads.
With Eel stark naked, in just his ball cap,
His wrinkled belly, layed right in his lap.
When up in the loft, there arose such a clatter,
His knees to weak, to climb the ladder?
But up he went, in very slow motion.
He hadn't a clue, not even a notion.
In the dim of light, there on the floor,
Were six naked men, they were hard to ignore.
When what to Eel?s eyes, should soon appear,
Spinning bottles of vodka, but nary a beer.
And in red solo cups, were mini umbrellas,
These drinks consumed, by limp-wristed fellas.
Shots of Bull, had kept them up all night,
When the buzz wore off, they'd see the light.
They?d done some stuff, because they were drunk,
He stood dazed and confused and in a funk.
What had happened, had he missed the game?
He whistled and flirted and called them by name!
Now Gator! now zekers! now Stick and Roy!
On Wiz! and Boz, tell me that toy?
Is it a talking frog, like that of muppet?
It was just NV and his little sock puppet!
With his hands in his pockets, he made it dance,
It twerked and wiggled, on top of his pants.
Then in an instant, it drooped so fast
Without his blue pill, it couldn't last.
The fun was over, then a smell from below,
A cloud of smoke, began to grow.
Out in the garage, they were having a ball,
Some young kid, and his funny duck call.
He was dressed like a stoner, from head to foot,
And his clothes were all soiled from reefer soot.
A bundle of sticky, he pulled from a pouch,
The stash he said, from Catman?s couch.
A night with his daughter, while the feline was away,
She begged and pleaded, but he couldn't stay.
Off to the Clubhouse, to be with his kind,
Where men are boys, and boys don't mind.
Then a knock at the door, it could be Rug
In pursuit of a yank, and maybe a tug.
With a wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
He promised a night, none would dread.
He spoke in a soft lisp, ?whereth the Crisco??
But it had been used up, hours ago.
Indeed it was gone, the bucket was dry,
His eyes teared up, and he left with a sigh.
He pranced to his car, and tooted the horn,
A man on a mission, in pursuit of male porn.
But we heard him call out, as he drove out of sight,
?I'm off to Feleno?s, he'll make this right?.
Hope you all have a great Christmas.
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
Twas the night before Christmas, in the Clubhouse,
A whole bunch of men, and nary a spouse.
The guys were all hung, with no underwear,
In hopes to garner, a smile and stare.
Some colorful faces, turning blues and reds,
Because of the visions, dancing in their heads.
With Eel stark naked, in just his ball cap,
His wrinkled belly, layed right in his lap.
When up in the loft, there arose such a clatter,
His knees to weak, to climb the ladder?
But up he went, in very slow motion.
He hadn't a clue, not even a notion.
In the dim of light, there on the floor,
Were six naked men, they were hard to ignore.
When what to Eel?s eyes, should soon appear,
Spinning bottles of vodka, but nary a beer.
And in red solo cups, were mini umbrellas,
These drinks consumed, by limp-wristed fellas.
Shots of Bull, had kept them up all night,
When the buzz wore off, they'd see the light.
They?d done some stuff, because they were drunk,
He stood dazed and confused and in a funk.
What had happened, had he missed the game?
He whistled and flirted and called them by name!
Now Gator! now zekers! now Stick and Roy!
On Wiz! and Boz, tell me that toy?
Is it a talking frog, like that of muppet?
It was just NV and his little sock puppet!
With his hands in his pockets, he made it dance,
It twerked and wiggled, on top of his pants.
Then in an instant, it drooped so fast
Without his blue pill, it couldn't last.
The fun was over, then a smell from below,
A cloud of smoke, began to grow.
Out in the garage, they were having a ball,
Some young kid, and his funny duck call.
He was dressed like a stoner, from head to foot,
And his clothes were all soiled from reefer soot.
A bundle of sticky, he pulled from a pouch,
The stash he said, from Catman?s couch.
A night with his daughter, while the feline was away,
She begged and pleaded, but he couldn't stay.
Off to the Clubhouse, to be with his kind,
Where men are boys, and boys don't mind.
Then a knock at the door, it could be Rug
In pursuit of a yank, and maybe a tug.
With a wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
He promised a night, none would dread.
He spoke in a soft lisp, ?whereth the Crisco??
But it had been used up, hours ago.
Indeed it was gone, the bucket was dry,
His eyes teared up, and he left with a sigh.
He pranced to his car, and tooted the horn,
A man on a mission, in pursuit of male porn.
But we heard him call out, as he drove out of sight,
?I'm off to Feleno?s, he'll make this right?.
