Where are the Christmas stories?

'Twas the night before Christmas

and all through the house

The whole damn family

was drunk as a louse

Grandma and Grandpa

were singing a song

And the kid was in bed

flogging his dong

Ma, home from the cathouse,

and me out of jail

Had just crawled into bed

for a nice piece of tail

When out on the lawn,

there arose such a clatter

I jumped out of bed

to see what was the matter

Away to the window

I flew like a flash

Threw open the shutters

and fell on my àss

The moon on the crest

of the new fallen snow

Gave a whorehouse-like luster

to the objects below

When what to my bloodshot

eyes should appear

But a rusty old sleigh and

two mangy reindeer

With a little old driver

just pounding his dick

I knew in a moment,

it must be Saint Nick

Slower than snails

his reindeer they came

He bítched and he swore

as he called them by name

Now Dancer, now Prancer,

up over the walls

Quick now, damn it,

or I'll cut off your balls.

Then up to the roof

he stumbled and fell

And came down the chimney

like a bat out of hell

He staggered and stomped

and went to the door

Tripped on his peter,

and fell on the floor

I heard him exclaim,

as he rode out of sight:

Píss on you all,

it's a hell of a night.