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'twas The Night Before Ramadan.

  • Thread starter Thread starter dballer
  • Start date Start date
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dballer

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'Twas the night before Ramadan, and all through the cave
Not a creature was stirring; it felt like a grave.
The turbans were hung by the firepit with care,
In hopes that the Air Force would not soon be there.

The soldiers were restless without any beds,
While visions of air strikes flashed in their heads.
Osama in his burkha and I in my goatskin cap,
Had just settled down for a cold, barren winter's nap,
When out on the ledge there arose such a clatter,
I grabbed my Kalashnikov to see what was the matter.

Away from the racket I ran like a girl,
Tripped over a goat; into a ball I did curl.
The moon shone down on the new-fallen snow
And lit up the valley with an ominous glow,
When, what to my one good eye should appear,
But a dozen Apaches, and tanks in the rear,
And their leader, so fearless, his troops he did push,
I knew in an instant it must be George Bush.

More rapid than eagles his forces they came,
And they whistled, and shouted, and called out our names;
"Now ! ! Omar! Osama! Muhammad! Abdul!
We come for you now; we've taken Kabul!

To the top of the cliffs! To the back of their caves!
When you chose this war, you dug your own graves!"
As the dry leaves that before the assault choppers fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, light up the sky,
So up to the ledge his forces they flew
With full magazines, and flamethrowers too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard with a thud
The explosions of Tomahawks; not one was a dud.
As I chambered my rifle, and was turning around,
Osama was there, disguised in a gown.

He was dressed all in drag, from his head to his toes,
And he said he would flee while I held off his foes;
A bundle of money he had stuffed in his pack,
He said "I'm going to Baghdad and I'm not looking back!"

His eyes were all glassy; he trembled with fear;
The American bombs, they rang in his ears.
He saddled his goat, then turned tail and fled,
But Chief Spall, head cop sniper got him in the head.

I watched with cold fear as his body did slump;
The goat threw him off; he fell with a thump.
And so, there I stood, my plans all destroyed,
About to suffer a fate I could not avoid;

I dropped to my knees; asked Allah for help,
His voice boomed in my ears, "You ignorant whelp!
I gave you the Bible, the Torah and Koran,
But you were too arrogant to understand,

I told you to honor your neighbors and wives;
Not to enslave them, or degrade their lives!
You invoke My name to sanction your deeds,
But you are the last thing that this world needs.

And so, I'll send you and bin Laden to Hell."
The last words I heard, as the bombs fell,
Were from George Bush himself as he mounted the wall,
"One nation, under God, with liberty and justice for all!"
 
My Dad wants them gone too.... He sent it to me this morning. I like this song.
 
Khule....and a little something from Ranger as well....



The DEA Christmas Poem


Twas the night before Christmas and I was a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
Customs has my gear high upon their shelves,
"Physically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And lifting conditions here at the gym,
Have changed alot and my cycle looks dim.

Four packages vanished without much propriety,
They think it's a crime against Society.
And equal employment has made it quite clear,
That DEA won't release my gear.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Fucked me out of my gear, and now I look stupid!

I had hopes of starting my cycle today,
But my " supplements " were deemed dangerous by the FDA,
And millions of people were calling the Law,
Because we want a body, perfect, without a flaw.
Second-hand smoke from crack keeps me frightened,
But gear is wrong because most are "unenlightened".

To show you the strangeness of today's ebbs and flows,
They look at me funny because I continue to grow.
We've written letters to the leaders of this great Nation,
Yet, they still have my gear, and I've no compensation.


And as for gifts...why, I'd never had the notion
That making a choice could cause such commotion.
Nothing of leather, not a thing anymore...
Nothing under the tree, so Thanks, ya fat, fucking Whore!
Nothing to swallow, Nothing to inject,
Nothing ya fucker, not one thing to expect!

No candy or sweets, they're bad for both body and tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish upon this awful truth.
And fairy tales...while not yet forbidden,
Are alot like my gear, and better off hidden

No baseball, no football...someone might get hurt,
Besides - playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist and should be passe.
And I caused no harm to the bastards taking my gear away.

So when Santa stands here tonight looking disheveled, and perplexed,
The fat, jolly bastard better know what to do next?
If he tries to be merry, or tries to be gay,
He'll soon find out I'm having a very bad day.
If the fucker's sack is empty, if it's flat on the ground,
It won't be acceptable unless my gear can be found.

Nothing special is needed, just my gear tonight,
Give to us all, and make this shit right.
A gift that would satisfy - with no indecision,
So I can start my cycle and continue the Iron Religion.
Every race, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you!
Better give me my gear, or I'll beat ya black, and blue!


And now to the fucker's who took my gear,
While this Jolly fat fuck is standing here!
Call customs and tell them to let my presents pass,
Or I'm snapping a foot off in St. Nick's hairy ass!


Ranger
 
Nope.. my Father sent it to me!!
Pretty fuckin awesome!! I am making it into a song on the gutiar. I am gonna sing it downtown on X-Mas...
 
bringing it to the top. Cause all truly great threads are at the top.
 
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