I Hate Dialysis Message Board
Off-Topic => Off-Topic: Talk about anything you want. => Topic started by: thegrammalady on December 04, 2008, 09:23:33 PM
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Karol's post on the politically correct christmas brought this to mind.
The Twelve Days After Christmas
The first day after Christmas, my true love and I had a fight
And so I chopped down that old pear tree
And burnt it, just for spite
Then I took a cartridge
and shot that blasted partridge
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The second day after Christmas, I pulled on the old rubber gloves
And very gently wrung the necks
Of both those turtle doves.
Then I took a cartridge
and shot that blasted partridge
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The third day after Christmas, my mother came down with the croup
So I had to use those three French hens
To make her chicken soup.
Then I took a cartridge
and shot that blasted partridge
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The four calling birds were a big mistake
For their language was obscene
The five golden rings were completely fake
And they turned my fingers putrid green.
Then I took a cartridge
and shot that blasted partridge
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The sixth day after Christmas, the six laying geese wouldn't lay
So I sent the whole darn gaggle to
The local A.S.P.C.A.
Then I took a cartridge
and shot that blasted partridge
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The seventh day after Christmas, Oh what a mess I had found
It seems the seven swans-a-swimming could'nt and they all had drowned
Then I took a cartridge
and shot that blasted partridge
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
The eighth day after Christmas, before they could even suspect
I bundled up the
Twelve drummers drumming
Eleven pipers piping
Ten lords-a-leaping
Nine ladies dancing
Eight maids-a-milking
(well, actually I kept *one* of the ladies)
And sent them back collect
Then I took a cartridge
and shot that blasted partridge
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
I wrote my true love
"We are through, love!"
And I said in so many words
"Furthermore your Christmas gifts were for the friggin Birds
Four calling birds, Three french hens, Two turtle doves And a partridge in a pear tree!"
And with my final cartridge
and shot that blasted partridge ( I'm sure it's dead by now.)
My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.
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:rudolph; :ukflag; I just love it made me laugh Yvonne Happy Christmas
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After too much Christmas music, that's just how I feel. I like the music but not over and over and over and over. The magic goes poof.
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After too much Christmas music, that's just how I feel. I like the music but not over and over and over and over. The magic goes poof.
I feel the same way, but lost that magic feeling years ago while working in a grocery store during high school. Christmas music 24 hours a day on a loop, same songs over and over. I wish I had that shotgum! Shoot the speakers out first then go after all those birds!
(Where's an Elmer Fudd icon when you need one :rofl;)
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The first time I had to go for an iron transfusion, back before I was on dialysis, the infusion center was playing the radio at full blast next to my chair. It was a country station, but they were playing all holiday tunes, since it was a week before Christmas. 8 straight hours of "Grandma got ran over by a reindeer." Auuuuggghhhh! I like Christmas music, but no one likes it that much!