PC Santa
'Twas the night before Christmas, and Santa's a wreck...
Living in a world that's politically correct
His workers no longer would answer to 'Elves',
'Vertically Challenged' the lads call themselves.
And labour conditions at the North Pole
Were said by the Siptu Rep to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, right out of sight
Released to the wild by the Animal Rights
And equality clauses had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner and Blitzen and Cupid
Were replaced by four pigs (and yez know that looks stupid)
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over various bits of small print in the deal for the world intellectual property rights to his nose,
And had gone on Pat Kenny, in front of the nation,
Demanding three million euro in 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 in Termonfeckin, she'd left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title be Ms
And as for the gifts, why, he'd never a notion
That the lists from the kids could cause such commotion:
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamoured or made piles of noise.
Nowt for the girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
No bogball, no football... the kids might get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposes childer to dirt.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.
He tried to be merry, and tried to be gay
(But yez have to be careful with that word today.)
His sack was quite empty, and flat on the ground;
Nothing acceptable was to be found.
"So f*** that for a bunch of cowboys," he said
"I'm off to the bleddy pub and you can stick this job up yer poxy shopping centre, it's freezing out there, and everybody knows that Santa couldn't have been a bloke anyway, cos most lads I know would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet stuff, and blokes are terrible at answering their letters too, and there would be no reindeer anyway if Santa was male because they'd all be dead by now, gutted and strapped on a roofrack on the top of the sleigh, amid wide-eyed, desperate claims that the deer hunting season had just been extended by the Department of Agriculture, and they aren't normally interested in stockings unless a nice young lass is wearing them, and I can't stand the customers or their parents, so stuff your lousy job, I'M OFF..."
stolen from P45.net
Living in a world that's politically correct
His workers no longer would answer to 'Elves',
'Vertically Challenged' the lads call themselves.
And labour conditions at the North Pole
Were said by the Siptu Rep to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, right out of sight
Released to the wild by the Animal Rights
And equality clauses had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner and Blitzen and Cupid
Were replaced by four pigs (and yez know that looks stupid)
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over various bits of small print in the deal for the world intellectual property rights to his nose,
And had gone on Pat Kenny, in front of the nation,
Demanding three million euro in 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 in Termonfeckin, she'd left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title be Ms
And as for the gifts, why, he'd never a notion
That the lists from the kids could cause such commotion:
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamoured or made piles of noise.
Nowt for the girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
No bogball, no football... the kids might get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposes childer to dirt.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.
He tried to be merry, and tried to be gay
(But yez have to be careful with that word today.)
His sack was quite empty, and flat on the ground;
Nothing acceptable was to be found.
"So f*** that for a bunch of cowboys," he said
"I'm off to the bleddy pub and you can stick this job up yer poxy shopping centre, it's freezing out there, and everybody knows that Santa couldn't have been a bloke anyway, cos most lads I know would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet stuff, and blokes are terrible at answering their letters too, and there would be no reindeer anyway if Santa was male because they'd all be dead by now, gutted and strapped on a roofrack on the top of the sleigh, amid wide-eyed, desperate claims that the deer hunting season had just been extended by the Department of Agriculture, and they aren't normally interested in stockings unless a nice young lass is wearing them, and I can't stand the customers or their parents, so stuff your lousy job, I'M OFF..."
stolen from P45.net
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