The Randomness Continues

Sunday, February 15, 2004


'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 (snap).

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 (of... carrots).

The moon was out as it should be at night,
Casting a glimmer on things in the night,
When I saw some really akward Shit,
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!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away y'all!"

I'm not sure if it was real, my brain's kind of fried,
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, just in spite!
A twinkle in my eyes, knowing all was well,
And Abraham Lincoln was deep in the pits of....
Oh Well.

The smoking limo was real, outside by my porch,
It landed right on my neighbor's new porche.
Lincoln was standing alone next to the wreck,
He screamed my name with raw hatred and said:

(NOTE: Yes, I realize I already put that in a post, and I did copy and paste it. But whoop-dee-friggin-doo. It's my site, I'll put the same old crap on again if I want to. The Simpsons does it all the time with clip shows, and that show is still awesome.)


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