The Randomness Continues

Wednesday, July 09, 2003

THE TRUTH ABOUT PRESIDENTS DAY


It was Presidents Day Eve. Little Billy walked up to his room after he hung his stove-pipe hat over the fireplace. He had a question he wanted to ask his mom
“Mom, I have a question I want to ask you.”
“Go ahead little Billy.”
“Is Abraham Lincoln real?”
She knew this day would come eventually. Would she tell him the truth, or make up a story like her parents had done. She knew she had to tell him the truth.
“Of course he is Little Billy. Every presidents day he falls through the roof and puts candy and toys in the stove-pipe hats of good little boys and girls and leaves copies of the Emancipation Proclamation strew around the house for mommy to pick up.”
“I thought so. Will he come tonight?”
“Of course he will Little Billy, of course he will.”
She turned off his light and went to close the door when Little Billy asked another question.
“Mommy? Is Santa Clause real?”
“Of course he isn’t dear, he’s just a cheap commercial Icon for the greedy bast**** over at K-Mart.”
“I love you mom.”

ABRAHAM LINCOLN IS COMING TO TOWN

You better watch out
You better not fight
You better not succeede
I'm telling you why

Abraham Lincoln is comin' to town
Abraham Lincoln is comin' to town
Abraham Lincoln is comin' to town

He's making an EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION
He's checking it twice
He's gonna find out
Who's picking your rice

Abraham Lincoln is comin' to town
Abraham Lincoln is comin' to town
Abraham Lincoln is comin' to town

He sees you when you're beating your slaves
He knows when you're succeeding
He wrote the friggin EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION
A document you best be reading

You better watch out
You better not fight
You better not succeede
I'm telling you why

Abraham Lincoln is comin' to town
Abraham Lincoln is comin' to town
Abraham Lincoln is comin' to town

THE NIGHT BEFORE PRESIDENTS DAY


'Twas the night before Presidents day, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except for a mouse;
Who was busily raiding the cupboard with care,
Not knowing of the mouse trap hiding in there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of the EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION danced in their heads;
Alone in my parents basement with our cat,
I Had just turned the TV on to watch some late-night crap.

When suddenly somebody fell through the roof,
I sprang from the sofa during Conan, that goof.
Away to the stairs I flew like a flash,
Making sure I had already hidden my stash.

The moon was out as it should be at night,
Casting a glimmer on things in the night,
When I saw some really akward S***
An official looking Limo pulled by 8 former presidents.

With a red neck driver who had brains like mush,
I knew in a moment it must be George W. Bush!
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, JACKSON! now, TRUMAN! now, CARTER and NIXON!
On, COOLIDGE! on FILMORE! on, REAGAN and CLINTON!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

I don’t know if it was real cuz I was a little bit HI!,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the presidential limo and Lincoln there too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The boring political arguments of each of those goofs.
A gun in my hand, I was turning around,
Lincoln fell through the roof and landed hard on the ground.

He was dressed in a suit, from his tall hat to black boot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
I cocked my gun as he opened his sack.

His eyes -- they were rather ordinary!
His cheeks were nothing like roses, his nose didn’t look a thing like a cherry!
His stove-pipe hat was high on his head,
I thought he looked pretty good, despite being dead.

The stump of a cigar he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a long face and very toned abs,
This dead man had a friggin six pack!

He hung up the EMANCIPATION PROCLOMATION, he was almost done,
My handed tightended up on the handle of the gun;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon showed me he really was not dead;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then he called me a jerk!,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
Ge gave me the bird, and out the window he rose.

He jumped in the limo, I pulled out a missle,
And ignored Clinton as he complained about stepping on a thistle..
I had really good aim, and he was just in my sight.
I pulled the trigger, and lit up the night.

Then I woke up.... Oh what a night.
This dream I had, it gave me a fright!
I killed 10 former presidents in one night,
A twinkle in my eyes, knowing all was well,
Abraham Lincoln was depp in the pits of....
Oh Well.

The smoking limo was real, outside by my pourch,
It landed right on my neighbors porche.
Lincoln was standing alone next to the wreck,
He screamed my name with raw hatred and said:
“HAPPY PRESIDENTS TO ALL, I’M GOING TO HAUNT THE SOUTH BUT YOU’RE NEXT!”

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