sry if its supposed to go in the creative writing section...i couldnt pick cuz its funny too...anywayz here it is
'Twas the night before Christmas and all the through the big house.
Not a prisoner was stirring not even the convict mouse.
With my clothes all washed and hung 'round my cell with care,
I sat down with some commissary that my bunky was hoping I'd share.
The lifers were snuggled with their punks in their beds,
While visions of real woman danced in their heads.
Suddenly down the range there came a terrible clatter,
My only reply was "now what the hell's the matter."
I knew nobody was planning a big Christmas bash,
"Wilson fell off his bunk" someone said "he's been smokin' hash."
I said to my celly, he's a burglar named Joe.
"We can't even get something to drink wouldn't you know."
He gave me a wide-eyed look like an excited pooch,
Then reached into the cabinet and produced a quart of hootch.
With a twist of the cap and a sniff of air,
Joe started laughing and pulled up a chair.
He took three real big swallows, much, much to quick.
Then handled me the bottle and instantly got sick.
He slid out of the chair and onto the floor, letting out a long deep sigh.
He can't hold his liquor I thought, why does he even try?
So I sat with the bottle and a bag full of chips,
Savoring the liquid as it passed between my lips.
If I kept drinking there was one thing I knew,
I'd be on the floor passed out cold too.
So I put away the bottle in the cabinet with care,
Because I knew that I had drank more than my share.
Then suddenly at my door dressed in blue from head to toe,
There was a guard smirking and saying "you're busted you know."
I went to the bars to start pleading my case,
When suddenly the fat bastard leaned right up in my face.
I was actually surprised that his eyes looked quite merry,
His nose was quite large and as red as a cherry.
I knew that there was something that he didn't want me to know,
His tough guy act was really nothing but show.
He stepped back and crossed his arms over his belly,
Then he started laughing his body shaking like jelly.
He nodded and turned and off he went,
Nothing was said yet his message was sent.
Stop all the bullshit and I'll soon be out,
I can keep my nose clean of that I have no doubt.
With the old man gone and my head now clear,
I realized that my heart was again filled with cheer.
Then down the range I heard "time for count,"
And the stairs to my tier the guard did then mount.
Up Johnson up Jackson Asher and Malone,
Up Cartwright, up Fisher up Smith and Petrone.
Up Crouch up Truax up Chapman and Ball,
I've gotta count you idiots so get up one and all.
And since this is Christmas night,
There better not be even one fight!"
theres alot more of these funny christmas things at this site:
http://www.beforexmas.com/
