(no subject)
Lacking much in the way of money or safe online card sites, have the gift of words
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'Twas the night before wintereenmas, when all through the net
The nerds were still typing, and not on a bet;
The forum posts crafted, the devil-may-care,
In hopes that a troll will a flamewar prepare;
The geeks were all nestled, all snug in their chairs,
While visions of Lara sent quivers through their hairs;
And web girls in their scanties, and I in my seat,
Had just settled down and ordered, a pizza with meat,
When we realised the date then the shock hit our liver,
The season when dominos do not deliver!
Away to the window I flew as though I was mad,
Tore open the shutters and declared a jyhad.
The moonlight gleamed o’er the new-fallen snow
As I laid out my plans to give combat a go,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so ancient and wrinkled,
I knew in a moment, by the way his eyes twinkled,
More rapid than broadband his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, JAVA! now, BASIC! now, FORTRAN and PASCAL!
On, ADA! on LOGO! on, PROLOG and COBOL!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry printouts that before the desktop fan do fly,
When they meet with a cube wall, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of PNP, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the fat pipe St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in denim, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with pizza grease and soot;
A bundle of consoles he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a fat geek with his red fanny pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! He was drunk off his arse!
His cheeks were like roses, he moronically grinned!
His spittle reumed mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And his scraggly goatee was as white as the snow;
The stump of a hash pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a great big fat belly,
I bet he used UNIX, drugs made his brain jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old dork,
And I laughed when I saw him, and his flesh all like pork;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his jowls,
Made we worry he was going to give vent to his bowels;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And refitted my box with a GeForce that worked,
And drumming his fingers on my desk by the nails,
He turned and he enquired ‘May I check my mail?’
He sprang to the desk and he checked all his mail,
And LJ, and Forums with the pace of a snail,
Then he googled Pr0n when I was out of sight,
Before leaving, with a bellowed "HAVE A GOOD ONE! GOOD NIGHT!”
*************************************************************
'Twas the night before wintereenmas, when all through the net
The nerds were still typing, and not on a bet;
The forum posts crafted, the devil-may-care,
In hopes that a troll will a flamewar prepare;
The geeks were all nestled, all snug in their chairs,
While visions of Lara sent quivers through their hairs;
And web girls in their scanties, and I in my seat,
Had just settled down and ordered, a pizza with meat,
When we realised the date then the shock hit our liver,
The season when dominos do not deliver!
Away to the window I flew as though I was mad,
Tore open the shutters and declared a jyhad.
The moonlight gleamed o’er the new-fallen snow
As I laid out my plans to give combat a go,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so ancient and wrinkled,
I knew in a moment, by the way his eyes twinkled,
More rapid than broadband his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, JAVA! now, BASIC! now, FORTRAN and PASCAL!
On, ADA! on LOGO! on, PROLOG and COBOL!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry printouts that before the desktop fan do fly,
When they meet with a cube wall, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of PNP, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the fat pipe St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in denim, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with pizza grease and soot;
A bundle of consoles he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a fat geek with his red fanny pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! He was drunk off his arse!
His cheeks were like roses, he moronically grinned!
His spittle reumed mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And his scraggly goatee was as white as the snow;
The stump of a hash pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a great big fat belly,
I bet he used UNIX, drugs made his brain jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old dork,
And I laughed when I saw him, and his flesh all like pork;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his jowls,
Made we worry he was going to give vent to his bowels;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And refitted my box with a GeForce that worked,
And drumming his fingers on my desk by the nails,
He turned and he enquired ‘May I check my mail?’
He sprang to the desk and he checked all his mail,
And LJ, and Forums with the pace of a snail,
Then he googled Pr0n when I was out of sight,
Before leaving, with a bellowed "HAVE A GOOD ONE! GOOD NIGHT!”