All I Want For ChristmasAll I Want For Christmas9 years ago in Poetry More Like This
Oh, all I want for Christmas is a smaller set of breasts:
Forget about the candy canes, the eggnog and the rest.
Hey Santa, if you're listening then let me really stress,
I mean it when I say I need to 'get this off my chest'!!!
I 'member how I used to play in mother's cast-off clothes;
The evening dress, the high heels and the baggy pantyhose.
I'd stuff my top with kleenex 'til the bodice hit my nose:
Gee, whoda thunk I'd end up with a pair bigger than those?!?!?!
When older, I tried basketball but I'd just end up sore.
I'd bounce the ball across the court but both my breasts bounced more!
And golf was just a waste of time-I seldom had a score:
My boobs just checked my swing before I even could yell 'Fore!'
Now, I can hear you laughing but you really have no clue,
Just what it's like to jump rope and end up all black and blue!
I'd wear the tightest bra I could, but what's a girl to do?
No matter how I'd bind 'em they just grew and grew and GREW.
Yes, Dolly with her triple D's does rea
Reindeer PauseReindeer Pause9 years ago in Prose More Like This
[Santa's Workshop, the North Pole. It is Christmas Eve, and the warm glow of the shop illuminates the gently falling snow outside. Stillness hangs in the air, but also the weight of expectation; of joys soon to come. Any time now, the elves will walk out to the nearby barn and hook the reindeer to Santa's sleigh, where they will perform the time-honored duty of delivering to every good chil--]
BLITZEN: Augh, screw it! Screw Christmas in its cute little button-nosed face! (paws angrily at the warm earth of his stable)
PRANCER: Now, now dear. You know these outbursts don't do you any good.
BLITZEN: Out of my business, Prancer! You know it just gets worse every year!
CUPID: (peers out from the top of her stable) Is old Blitzkrieg firing his guns again?
PRANCER: No, Cupid. And if he were, you wouldn't be helping right now.
CUPID: Uh-huh. (shouts over) C'mon, Blitzen—cheer up! It'll all be over before you know it!
BLITZEN: That's exactly it! We do this job for one night every y
Christmas-timeNow colored lights throw vibrant spritesChristmas-time9 years ago in Poetry More Like This
In arcs around the trees
The burning wicks of candlesticks
Bow low before the breeze
The powdered snow and mistletoe
Contribute to the cheer:
And young and old don't mind the cold
For Christmas-time is near.
Now stockings grace the fireplace
And children wait with glee
For soon, they know, the space below
Their decorated tree
Will fill with stuff – oh, soon enough
Their presents will appear –
For by the laws of Santa Claus,
Their Christmas-time is near.
Now eggnog flows, and winter blows
Its fury o'er the hills
We warm our hands and dream of lands
Outside the windowsills.
The sound of bells approaching tells
The news in voices clear:
November's done – the cold's begun –
And Christmas-time is near.
The children sleep. Outside, the deep
And windswept banks of snow
Accumulate beside the gate.
The frozen rivers flow.
I hold you tight. The candlelight
Is in your eyes, my dear –
And you and I, we softly sigh
For Christmas-time is here!
A Different Kind of ChristmasA Different Kind of Christmas9 years ago in Prose More Like This
It was the beginning of yet another December, and Knuckles the Echidna reclined beside the Master Emerald. It was snowing in the mountains on Angel Island, while falling as rain in the forest below. He stood up, looking towards the mainland; Station Square was bustling with activity. He never saw much of his friends this time of year, and he wondered why this time of year was so important to them. He glanced at the Master Emerald and said to himself, "You're a cruel beauty, keeping me tethered to this island all year." Breathing a deep sigh he continued, "However, the activity of the mainlanders, and the reason for this commotion, eludes me still."
Knuckles was annoyed with his duty of guarding the Master Emerald, for he couldn't leave it, and it was a burden at times. He could never see his friends as much as he wanted; he knew that they revered this time of year, and had no idea why. A forlorn feeling enveloped his heart, making this time of year burdensome to him.
The HypnotistThere's something about the end of the year that makes me feel depressed. As if my life isn't going anywhere. It might be the fact that it's been another pointless year almost passed, or it could be the fact that summer has been and gone, and there's nothing you can do to bring back those gloriously sticky summer nights out in the garden sitting by a fire. On the other hand, one can look forward to the delights of Halloween and Christmas, and if you live in America, Thanksgiving.The Hypnotist9 years ago in Prose More Like This
Even so, there's just something about the end of the year that's always made me feel depressed. It might be the autumn leaves dropping off the trees when they were once so beautifully ripe and succulent, swaying gently in the breeze as they soaked up the sunlight that beamed down on them. It might be the lost youth of summer fun and games in the beaming sunshine, playing catch with a Frisbee, sitting on the swings, trips down to the beach. Mind you, there's always snowball fights to be had, and there's a lot o