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11-22-2007, 11:24 AM
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 The Night Before Thanksgiving Twas the night before Thanksgiving, and all through the fridge, Not a dish had been tasted, not even the rum porridge made by Aunt Midge; The stuffing had been stuffed in the turkey with care, In hopes of filling the loneliness the bird felt in there; We, the owners of the fridge, were nestled in our Craftmatics, While restive, hungry rodents danced in our attic; When out in the kitchen there arose such a clatter, I shoved my wife out there, to see what was the matter; When what to her bleary eyes should appear, But a surprised and plump man, drinking my beer; I followed behind, in time for introductions, And spied the strange man in the midst of larder reductions; “I’m the spirit of Thanksgiving and the name’s Turkey Tom, Have you got any more mashed taters – you must be Mom?”; Before we could speak, he invited in his motorcycle club, Eight enormous fat men in leather, all looking for grub; They ransacked the room in search of more board, Until Tom called the spirits by name (by then he’d grown bored); “On Oliver Hardy, on President Taft, on Henry the Eighth! On Big Bopper and Elvis, and the chubby cousin of John Kenneth Galbraith!” (He didn’t even mention the Guinness Book motorcycle twins - They had already gone next door, in search of loaded potato skins); Tom shooed the other six from our kitchen, and right out the front hall, Shouting “Wobble away, wobble away, wobble away all!” My wife and I looked at each other with shock and dismay, As we imagined all the hungry relatives who were headed our way; Our Thanksgiving looked ruined, our cupboards bare frames, But Tom said, “When no one has indigestion, you’ll be glad we came.” And with that, he not quite hopped onto his Harley, And shared with us words shaped by hops and barley; “Happy Thanksgiving to all, including thee and thee, and may you (burp) – oh, excuse me!”      |
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11-22-2007, 11:26 AM
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| Re: The night before thanksgiving Twas the night before Thanksgiving and in my sleep. Strange dreams in my mind, began to creep Thanksgiving leftovers beckoned --- The dark meat and white, But I fought the temptation with all of my might. Tossing and turning with anticipation...... The thought of a snack became infatuation..... So to the kitchen I did race, Flung open the door, And gazed at the fridge full of goodies galore I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes, Pickles and carrots, beans and tomatoes. I felt myself swelling so plump and so round, Till all of a sudden, I rose off the ground! I crashed through the ceiling. Floating into the sky.... With a mouthful l of pudding and a handful of pie, But I managed to yell as I soared past the trees. HAPPY EATING TO ALL! PASS THE CRANBERRIES PLEASE! |
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11-22-2007, 11:30 AM
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| Re: The night before thanksgiving 'Twas the night of Thanksgiving, but I just couldn't sleep... I tried counting backwards, I tried counting sheep. The leftovers beckoned...the dark meat and white, but I fought the temptation with all of my might. Tossing and turning with anticipation, the thought of a snack became infatuation. So, I raced to the kitchen, flung open the door and gazed at the fridge, full of goodies galore. I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes, stuffing with gravy, green beans and tomatoes. I felt myself swelling so plump and so round, till all of a sudden, I rose off the ground. I crashed through the ceiling, floating into the sky with a mouthful of pudding and a handful of pie. But, I managed to yell as I soared past the trees... Happy eating to all -- pass the cranberries, please. |
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11-22-2007, 12:10 PM
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| Re: The Night Before Thanksgiving LOL thanks wolfie.................fir sharing,
__________________ This Mod needs a Pina' Colada  l  If Your Going Through Hell, Keep Going Winston Churchill |
happy thanksgiving to all,i hnow i am.i've meet someone thought here,i'm thankful |
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