The Christmas Thread.

NO, ive decided its NOT too early for a Christmas thread, so here's where you can vent all that pent up anger about gift-prices, postage-prices, everything else, and spread some chirstmassey cheer :santa:
Started a thread last week "Ho-Ho-Ho" on the hunt for Mrs Clause. Presents are/can be expensive - looking at Christmas-porn' is CHEAP!!!!!


Book Reviewer
Well, seeing as it's a Christmas thread...

[align=center]T'was the night before Christmas, he lived all alone
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.

I had come down the chimney with presents to give
And to see just who in this home did live.

I looked all about a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.

No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind
A sober thought came through my mind.

For this house was different, so dark and dreary,
I knew I had found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.

I heard stories about them, I had to see more
So I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.

And there he lay sleeping silent alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one bedroom home.

His face so gentle, his room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured a United States soldier.

Was this the hero of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean shaven, his weathered face tan,
I soon understood this was more then a man.

For I realized the families that I saw that night
Owed their lives to these men who were willing to fight.

Soon ‘round the world, the children would play,
And grownups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.

They all enjoyed freedom each month of the day,
Because of soldiers like this one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone
On a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home.

Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.

The solder awakened and I heard a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry, this life is my choice;

I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more,
My life is my God, my country, my Corps.”

With that he rolled over and drifted off into sleep,
I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still,
I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.

So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
And I covered this Soldier from his toes to his head.

And I put on his T-shirt of gray and black,
With an eagle and an Army patch embroidered on back.

And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
And for a shining moment, I was United States Army deep inside.

I didn’t want to leave him on that cold dark night,
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over, whispered with a voice so clean and pure,
“Carry on Santa, it’s Christmas day, all is secure.”

One look at my watch, and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night!

:santa: :santa: :santa: :santa: :santa:[/align]
We have a winner! For goodness sake legs some lunatic, or lunatics, post that infernal poem every year. Now it is out of the way will others please refrain from doing so?

Fuck me that was polite for the NAAFI. Perhaps the thread should go to the hole?
HA!! SLUGGY>>>>>that'll be another £10 in the H4H pot then snigger!!!
Just remember to say "Thank-you"

The twelve days of Christmas - Thank you notes!!

14th December

My dearest darling John.

I went to the door today and the postman delivered a partridge in a pear tree.
What a wonderful gift! Thank you my darling for the delightful thought.

With deepest love and affection always.

Your ever loving Agnes. XXXXXXXXXX

15th December

My dearest John.

Today the postman brought your second gift, TWO turtle doves. I am
delighted as they really are adorable.

Your ever loving Agnes. XXXXXXXXXX

16th December

Dearest John

You really are too extravagant. I don't deserve such generosity. The THREE french hens are marvellous. Your ever loving Agnes. XXXXXXXXXX

17th December

Dear John.

What can I say - FOUR beautiful calling birds arriveed with the post this
morning. Your kindness really is too much.

Love Agnes. XXXXXXX

18th December

My dearest John.

What a lovely surprise!! Today the postman delivered FIVE golden rings - one for each finger. You really are an impossible boy but I love you. Frankly all those birds are beginning to squawk and get on my nerves.

Yours Agnes. XXXX

19th December

Dear John.

When I opened the door this morning, there were actually SIX bloody great geese laying eggs all over the front door-step. So! we're back to the birds again are we? Where do you think I can keep them all? The neighbours are beginning to complain and I can't sleep at night.


20th December

What is it with you and these sodding birds? Now I've got SEVEN swans-a-
swimming. Is this some sort of goddam joke or what? The house is full of bird s&it and as for the noise, I'm becoming a f*#king nervous wreck. It's not funny any more - STOP sending me bloody birds.


21st December

O.K. Buster!! I think I prefer the birds. What the HELL am I supposed to do
with EIGHT maids-a-milking? It's bad enough with all those birds and now I have eight cows shi%^ing all over the house and mooing all night. LAY OFF SMARTASS!!


22nd December

Look sh&"head!! What are you, some kind of nut? Now I have NINE pipers
playing and CHRIST do they play. When they aren't playing their sodding
pipes, they keep chasing the maids through the cow sh%t and the cows keep treading on the bloody birds. The neighbours are trying to have me evicted.

You'll get yours


23rd December

YOU ROTTEN BAS&%RD!!!!! We now have TEN ladies dancing although
how anyone can call those who$es ladies is beyond me!! They're balling the pipers all night long, the cows can't sleep and have diarrhoea. My living room is a river of sh%t and the landlord has just declared the building as unfit for habitation.

P£%S OFF!! Agnes.

24th December

Listen fu&khead!! What with ELEVEN lords-a-leaping all over the maids and
me we shall never walk straight again!! The pipers are fighting the lords for the crumpet and are taking it in turns to commit sodomy with the cows. All the birds are dead and are rotting in the cowsh*t, having been trampled to death during an orgy but not before they had eaten my gold rings. I hope you're satisfied, you rotten vicious sh$thouse.

Your sworn enemy. Agnes.

25th December

TWELVE drummers-drumming have now teamed up with the pipers in
making one helluva bleedin' din! Both lots have been buggering the lords as well as the cows and god knows what happened to the milk-maids!!
they've probably drowned in the cowsh%t by now. The only way I've saved myself is by hiding up the pear tree which, because of the cowsh*t, has now grown through the roof.

I send you seasons greetings. BOLLO+KS
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