Axiom Home Page Forums General Discussion The Water Cooler Christmas Parodies

First to bat, an ol' fimilar.

On the first day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
Some parts to a Mustang GT.
.
On the second day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
2 huntin' dawgs
and some parts to a Mustang GT.
.
On the third day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
3 shotgun shells
2 huntin' dawgs
and some parts to a Mustang GT.
.
On the forth day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
4 big mud tires
3 shotgun shells
2 huntin' dawgs
and some parts to a Mustang GT.
.
On the fifth day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
5 flannel shirts
4 big mud tires
3 shotgun shells
2 huntin' dawgs
and some parts to a Mustang GT.
.
On the sixth day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
6 cans of Spam
5 flannel shirts
4 big mud tires
3 shotgun shells
2 huntin' dawgs
and some parts to a Mustang GT.
.
On the seventh day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
7 packs of Red Man
6 cans of Spam
5 flannel shirts
4 big mud tires
3 shotgun shells
2 huntin' dawgs
and some parts to a Mustang GT.
.
On the eighth day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
8 table dancers
7 packs of Red Man
6 cans of Spam
5 flannel shirts
4 big mud tires
3 shotgun shells
2 huntin' dawgs
and some parts to a Mustang GT.
.
On the ninth day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
9 years probation
8 table dancers
7 packs of Red Man
6 cans of Spam
5 flannel shirts
4 big mud tires
3 shotgun shells
2 huntin' dawgs
and some parts to a Mustang GT.
.
On the tenth day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
tin of Copenhagen
9 years probation
8 table dancers
7 packs of Red Man
6 cans of Spam
5 flannel shirts
4 big mud tires
3 shotgun shells
2 huntin' dawgs
and some parts to a Mustang GT.
.
On the eleventh day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
11 rasslin' tickets
tin of Copenhagen
9 years probation
8 table dancers
7 packs of Red Man
6 cans of Spam
5 flannel shirts
4 big mud tires
3 shotgun shells
2 huntin' dawgs
and some parts to a Mustang GT.
.
On the twelfth day of Christmas my old lady gave to me,
12 pack of Bud
11 rasslin' tickets
tin of Copenhagen
9 years probation
8 table dancers
7 packs of Red Man
6 cans of Spam
5 flannel shirts
4 big mud tires
3 shotgun shells
2 huntin' dawgs
and some parts to a Mustang GT.


Sutter

Surfin’ In Our Axiom Wonderland (Walkin’ In a Winter Wonderland)

Generals, where trolls are posting,
Baiting threads, and newbie roasting.

Pick a topic du jour,
Or some dead horse restored,
Debating in our Axiom Wonderland.

Banned away, are the perverts.
They'll come back, as some alters.

We've seen it before,
They'll do it some more,
Surfing in our Axiom Wonderland.

In the forums we can build a straw man,
And laugh while all the guppies knock him down.

They'll say: We are newbies,
We'll say: We know man,
Your silly comments let us know
When you're around.

Another year has transpired,
And Christmas cheer will inspire.

Happy alters to issue,
Kind holiday wishes,
Posting in our Axiom Wonderland.


Sutter

Journal Bells (Jingle Bells)

Dashing through the web, in a one-post newbie way,
Over the sites we go, spamming all the way.

Posts on chat-sites ring, making spirits bright,
O what fun it is to ride and sing a spamming song tonight.

Journal bells, Journal bells, Journal all the way!
O what fun it is to spam in a one-post newbie way.

Journal bells, Journal bells, Journal all the way!
O what fun it is to spam in a one-post newbie way.



Sutter

A Computer Christmas Nightmare

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a peripheral was stirring, not even a mouse;
The modem was hung by the keyboard with care
In hopes that a download soon would be there.
The pirates were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of unprotects danced in their heads.
And the wife in her kerchief, and I in my cap
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When up on the hard drive there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the monitor I flew like a flash,
Sat down at the keyboard, gave the spacebar a mash.
The sight on the screen, a'flicker with snow
Gave the luster of power surge to the menu below.
When, what to my wandering eyes should appear,
But an autoexec.bat that seemed rather queer.
With a little print driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment I had seen a new trick.
More rapid than eagles my curser it came;
My voice box whistled, and shouted, and called me by name.
"Now format, now rename, copy, and enter!
On num lock, on caps lock, on scroll lock, and printer.
To the top of the page, to the top of the doc,
Now tab it and bold it and merge it and block."
As utilities that build up the CPU speed
Clash with just the programs I need,
So up to the screen top the curser it flew
With a RAM full of memory and an extension board too.
And then, in a twinkling I heard on the speaker,
The grinding of the hard drive growing much weaker.
As I tried to reboot and turn it around,
The attributes changed from blue into brown.
I hit the control, the alt, and delete.
The message it gave me, I cannot repeat.
It asked me to Ignore, Retry, or Abort.
It told me the parallel had become the comm port.
Its lights how they twinkled; its pixels how merry.
Its prompts were all scrambled, like a bowl full of cherries.
It sounded just like it wanted to blow;
The screen was suddenly white as the snow.
It scrolled the directory before my eyes
With programs I didn't even recognize.
It wouldn't see D; it wouldn't see E.
I couldn't get out of B into C.
Norton's tried to read it;
It finally found the FAT;
But alas!, the disk was faulty,
And couldn't reformat.
Away flew the DBase;
Away flew the DOSes;
Away flew the WordStar;
Right out with the Windows.
The spreadsheets were spreading;
The footers were heading;
What once had been memory
Was close to forgetting.
When the grinding was over
And the smoke had all cleared,
I looked at the unit,
And it was just as I feared.
The 40 meg wonder had crashed in the night.
I'll never be able to block out that sight!
So tell everyone to avoid my plight;
Back up! Back up! Merry Christmas! Good Night!


Sutter

A Microsoft Christmas (1)

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except Papa's mouse.
The computer was humming, the icons were hopping,
As Papa did last-minute Internet shopping.

The stockings were hung by the modem with care
In hope that St. Nicholas would bring new software.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of computer games danced in their heads.

PageMaker for Billy, and Quicken for Dan,
And Carmen Sandiego for Pamela Ann.
The letters to Santa had been sent out by Mom,
To santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com -

Which has now been re-routed to Washington State
Because Santa's workshop has been bought by Bill Gates.
All the elves and reindeer have had to skedaddle
To flashy new quarters in suburban Seattle.

After centuries of a life that was simple and spare,
St. Nicholas is suddenly a new billionaire,
With a shiny red Porsche in the place of his sleigh,
And a house on Lake Washington that's just down the way
From where Bill has his mansion. The old fellow preens
In black Gucci boots and red Calvin Klein jeans.
The elves have stock options and desks with a view,
Where they write computer code for Johnny and Sue.

No more dolls or toy soldiers or little toy drums (ahem - pardon me)
No more dolls or tin soldiers or little toy drums
Will be under the tree, only compact disk ROMS
With the Microsoft label. So spin up your drive,
From now on Christmas runs only on Win95.

More rapid than eagles the competitors came,
And Bill whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
"Now, ADOBE! now, CLARIS! now, INTUIT! too,
Now, APPLE! and NETSCAPE! you are all of you through,

It is Microsoft's SANTA that the kids can't resist,
It's the ultimate software with a traditional twist -
Recommended by no less than the jolly old elf,
And on the package, a picture of Santa himself.

Get 'em young, keep 'em long, is Microsoft's scheme,
And a merger with Santa is a marketer's dream.
To the top of the NASDAQ! to the top of the Dow!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away - wow!"

And Mama in her 'kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
The whir and the hum of our satellite platter,
As it turned toward that new Christmas star in the sky,
The SANTALITE owned by the Microsoft guy.
As I sprang from my bed and was turning around,
My computer turned on with a Jingle-Bells sound.

And there on the screen was a smiling Bill Gates
Next to jolly old Santa, two arm-in-arm mates.
And I heard them exclaim in voice so bright,
Have a MICROSOFT CHRISTMAS, and TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.


Sutter

A Microsoft Christmas (2)

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except Papa's mouse.
The computer was humming, the icons were hopping,
As Papa did his last-minute Internet shopping.

The stockings were hung by the modem with care
In hope that St. Nicholas would bring new software.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of computer games danced in their heads.

Dark Forces for Billy, and Doom II for Dan,
And Carmen Sandiego for Pamela Ann.
And all the letters to Santa had been sent out by Mom,
To santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com -

But the letters were re-routed to Washington State
Because Santa's workshop has been bought by Bill Gates.
All the elves and reindeer have had to skedaddle
To flashy new digs in suburban Seattle.

After centuries of a life that was simple and spare,
St. Nicholas is suddenly a rich billionaire,

With a shiny red Porsche in the place of his sleigh,
And a house on Lake Washington that's just down the way
From where Bill has his mansion.

The elves have stock options and desks with a view,
Where they write computer code for Johnny and Sue.
No more dolls or little toy drums
Because under the tree, there are only CD ROMS
So boys and girls, spin up your drive,
From now on Christmas runs only on Windows 95.

More rapid than eagles the competitors came,
And Bill whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
"Now, ADOBE! now, CLARIS! now, INTUIT! too,
Now, APPLE! and NETSCAPE! you are all of you through,

It is Microsoft's SANTA that the kids can't resist,
It's the ultimate software with a traditional twist -
Recommended by no less than the jolly old elf,
And on the package, a picture of Santa himself.
Get 'em young, keep 'em long, is Microsoft's scheme,
And a merger with Santa is a marketer's dream.

To the top of the NASDAQ! to the top of the Dow!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away - wow!"
And Mama in her 'kerchief and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
The whirr and the hum of our satellite platter,
As it turned toward that new Christmas star in the sky,
The SANTALITE owned by the Microsoft guy.

As I sprang from my bed and was turning around,
My computer turned on with a Jingle-Bells sound.
And there on the screen was a smiling Bill Gates
Next to jolly old Santa, two arm-in-arm mates.

And I heard them exclaim in voice so bright,
Have a MICROSOFT CHRISTMAS, and TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.


Sutter

Sutter, you've must be hittin' the eggnog hard tonight.

LOL, just bored man, just bored. Thought I'd try to provide a little entertainment is all.



Sutter

That's cool. I understand the boredom thing too.

Must......sign......off. Getting sleepy now.

And to all a Goodnight.

We Three Kings of Washington Are

We Three Kings of Washington are:
Bush and Cheney, Rumsfeld's ajar
Don's future's fading, Condi's upgrading
The country will bear their scars.

O-ohhh... Star of Sunder, Star of Slights
Star like deer caught in headlights
Never ceding, dubious leading
Making history with his Blights

We Three Kings of Washington are:
One ordered war in two countries so far
Two remaining never astaining
Following Bush's star...

O-ohhh... Star of Blunders, Star of Right
Star that gives diplomacy fright.
Eastward leading, still proceeding
While the deficit's out of sight.

We Three Kings of Washington are
Spinning tales to get us this far
Always lying, always spying,
Our morals have lowered the bar.

O-ohhh... Star of Plunder, Star not bright
Star that gives world peace his smite.
Eastward trudging, still begrudging
The poor who hunger in the night.


Sutter

It's The Most Wonderful Kind Of A Beer

Drink the most wonderful kind of a beer.
In the bar, rebel-yelling,
There is nobody telling us
"Get out of here."
It's the most wonderful kind of a beer.

Here's the hap-happiest reason of all:
Fellow boozers send greetings
At our party meetings.
We're having a ball.
That's the hap-happiest reason of all.

Drinking parties we're hosting
To fun, we are toasting.
Our parents do not really know.
There'll be lots of tall stories
In bar lavatories
Of Bush business long, long ago.

Drink the most wonderful kind of a beer.
No one knows where we're going.
We're smart for not showing
What we're doing here.
It's the most wonderful kind of a beer.


(instrumental break)

...That's the hap-happiest reason of all.

Drinking parties we're hosting
To fun, we are toasting.
Our parents do not really know.
There'll be lots of tall stories
In bar lavatories
Of Bush business long, long ago.

Drink the most wonderful kind of a beer.
No one knows where we're going.
We're smart for not showing
What we're doing here.
It's the most wonderful kind of a beer.



Sutter

The 12 Ghetto Days Of Christmas

On de fert dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
A 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de secont dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de therd dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de fort dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de fit dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de scixt dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
A scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de sibint day of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de ate dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give to me!!
Ate pimps a pimpin',
sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de nite day of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Nyne playa haters,
ate pimps a pimpin',
sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de tint dey of Crimmus my boo dun give ta me!!
Tin freaks a freakin,
nyne playa haters,
ate pimps a pimpin',
sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de levint dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Levin jacked up hoopties,
tin freaks a freakin,
nyne playa haters,
ate pimps a pimpin',
sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de twelt day of Crimmus my boo dun give ta me!!
Twelb gubmint cheez,
levin jacked up hoopties,
tin freaks a freakin,
nyne playa haters,
ate pimps a pimpin',
sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.



Sutter

Uhhhh....huhuh....Ok then. Sleep tight, Sutter.

EVERY TOY YOU BREAK ( "Every Breath You Take")

Every toy you break
Every mess you make
Every bug you bake
Every cold you fake
Santa's watchin' you

Every cat you kick
Every nose you pick
Every floor you lick
If you bathe too quick
Santa's watchin' you

Oh, kid get wise
Can't shake Santa's spies
His surveillance guys
They beat the FBI's

Every loog you spit
Every friend you hit
Every class you ditch
Every fit you pitch
Santa's watchin' you

Santa's coming, there's just so much he'll take
So you had better be good for goodness sake
If you get stiffed on the toys that's your mistake
He sees you sleeping and knows when you're awake
So I beg you, wear pajamas please!

Every bed you wet
Every burp you let
If your mom's upset
Here's your Christmas threat:
Santa's watchin' you

Got his elves deployed
I'd be paranoid
Santa's watchin' you

Santa's watchin' you...


Sutter

MAXED-OUT CREDIT CARDS ( "Here Comes Santa Claus")

Maxed-out credit cards
Maxed-out credit cards
That's what Santa Claus brings
Makes sure we gets DVD sets
Of Lord of the Rings
Bow in thanks to great big banks
Who lend us holiday thrills
Hope the toys'll still work next month
When Santa Claus brings the bills

Second mortgages
Second mortgages
Pay for ATVs
Trucks and boats and coonskin coats
And plasma-screen TVs
Keeping up with Numbnuts Jones
Gets more expensive each year
So if Santa Claus don't bring food
We'll capture and eat his deer

Chapter 7
Chapter 11
And maybe Chapter 13
I declare it don't seem fair
To throw the book at me
Repossessors, mob collectors
Seem extremely upset
So block the chimney and lock the doors
'Cause Santa Claus brings me debt!





Sutter

OVERDECORATED ( "Complicated")

Slow down - what we shoppin' for?
This town's got too many stores
And if we hit one more TJ Maxx
I'll collapse!

Let's go home and watch the game
Before I go more insane
We'll park 'round the creche and play with fate
To navigate

The trains on the floor
The wreaths on the door
The icicle strands
The nutcracker bands
Reindeer on the lawn
The fear of the monstrous tree
Tell me

Don't you think the house is just a bit too decorated?
We just plug in the
Lights and every circuit in the state's obliterated
Every year we
Got the noise
From the toys
Garland chains
Candy canes
Santa's sleigh
And the spray-on snow
Compared to us the Rockefeller Center is understated
Ho ho ho

At night, man our yard's a trip
More lights than the Vegas strip
We're the only residential place
Seen from space

Neighbors claim they're going blind
We should hang some warning signs
It's a shame when friends misplace their young
Here among

The trains on the floor
The angels galore
The star chandeliers
The china from Sears
The gingerbread boys
The voice from the talking tree:
Flock me!

Why'd you have to go and buy all these decorations?
All this elec-
tricity would light a couple Eastern European nations
Every year we
Got the stress
Of the guests
Hanging socks
And the box-
es and bows
Heaven knows that we are
Livin' in a house like Chevy Chase's in the third Vacation
Ho ho -

Don't you think the house is just a bit too decorated?
The children found your
Egg nog, now they're sledding off the roof intoxicated
Every year you
Deck the halls
And the malls
Overspend
On the red
And the green
When it's cleanup time you'll
Find me at the beach on Christmas Island where I've relocated

Ho ho ho


Sutter

He's a Poet and he doesn't Know It, oh wait, that was Bob Dylan....

in reply to
--------------------------------------------------------

The 12 Ghetto Days Of Christmas

On de fert dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
A 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de secont dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de therd dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de fort dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de fit dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de scixt dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
A scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de sibint day of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de ate dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give to me!!
Ate pimps a pimpin',
sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de nite day of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Nyne playa haters,
ate pimps a pimpin',
sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de tint dey of Crimmus my boo dun give ta me!!
Tin freaks a freakin,
nyne playa haters,
ate pimps a pimpin',
sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de levint dey of Crimmus ma boo dun give ta me!!
Levin jacked up hoopties,
tin freaks a freakin,
nyne playa haters,
ate pimps a pimpin',
sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.

On de twelt day of Crimmus my boo dun give ta me!!
Twelb gubmint cheez,
levin jacked up hoopties,
tin freaks a freakin,
nyne playa haters,
ate pimps a pimpin',
sebin hommies chillin,
a scix pack a forties,
FIVE BAGS OF WEED!!!!
fo pigs feets,
tree hot wings,
too gold teefs,
an a 78 Cutless Supreme.
--------------------------------------------------------







suter

With all due respect, but a comment like that is not entirely true and isn't always the case.

As a growing up in the ghetto myself, I find it somewhat offensive. I in my 25 years of living there, i have never touched gubment cheeses or received 5 bags of weed as a gift, nor have I ever had a 78 cutlas. I have known and worked with many neighbors who have had their battles with christmas in the ghetto. Many of which whom lost their lives to it, and many who have over come them.



Now granted that isn't always the case and that much is true, but the notion that one chills wit his homies, or has gold teefs, if/when living or visiting is just bull$hit.

I do respect your opinion, but your remarks are not entirely true.

nice.

Nice try, but I didn't write it. That one was found online and is NOT my opinion. It's all in good fun anyways so take it anyway you want.

That being said, I will admit that one was not a good choice and done in bad taste. My apologies to those who were offended.



Sutter Cane