A Friend Request from Saint Nicholas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a computer was stirring, not even a mouse.
No children were nestled all snug in their beds,
I’d shot them and buried them out in the shed.
Just kidding I’d never had kids of my own,
But that left me this evening to be all alone.
Yes I in my bathrobe, the only one home,
Just me and my gin and my little iPhone.
I thought, maybe this will amuse me tonight,
So I fired it up and let music take flight!
(Sadly tap out Jingle Bells on iPhone)
Well that wasn’t working, its sound was so slight,
Where else could I find Christmas cheer on this night.
So I settled down in my chair with a plop,
And opened my red candied Apple laptop.
My computer is often my only real friend,
I thought as I sat on my flabby rear end.
I considered my usual nights online whirl,
Pretend I’m a nubile young age 13 girl.
Seducing some mayor or minor State Senator
Who’ll inevitably end up on To Catch a Predator.
No not on this night, not on this Christmas Eve.
I said as I wiped my red nose on my sleeve.
I think I will see how the holidays look
On that home for the lonely: I’ll check out facebook.
Facebook – that well-known web-based friendship shrine
Where I can keep up with my good friends online.
Here we gathered – me tonight, others online since dawn
In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would log on.
Instead facebook gave me the same old malaise,
Snooty parents bragging kids who brought home straight A’s
Some people I barely know off shooting movies,
Or lunching with someone that’s famous or groovy
It seems all these people are much more successful
Than me which I find so annoying and stressful.
But then on my homepage arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desktop to see what’s the matter.
Away to my inbox I flew with a smile,
Clicked double the e-mail and opened the file.
The background of white looked like newfallen snow,
Or lines of imported Columbian blow.
When, what to my wandering eyes should appear,
A curious message that bid me draw near
Its sender mysterious, its format so slick,
I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick.
His big fat red face then appeared on my screen,
And loudly he spoke as his eyes they did gleam:
Now Flickr, now Twitter, now MySpace and eBay!
On Yahoo! On Hulu! On YouTube and Pal-Pay!
He added: yes my reindeer naming rights I did sell
My costs have gone up and corporate sponsors pay well!
Now to the top of the profile! And a’top the firewall!
Now text me, and poke me and reply to all!
I eyeballed the screen and said, “No need to shout,”
“And Santa – what the hell are you talking about?”
But it turned out to be what I wanted the best,
It was from old Kris Kringle– a facebook friend request.
But then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As ashes flew round my dim room with a poof,
Down the chimney Saint Nicholas fell with an “oof.”
He stood up and looked at me straight in the eyes
Then he shook, what he saw was a shocking surprise
Every Who down in Whoville the tall and the small
Was singing without any presents at all!
(Pause, realize this has veered off into “Grinch," then continue.)
Down the chimney Saint Nicholas fell with an “oof.”
He was dressed all in fur, and none of it faux,
And sweating like crazy – it’s LA, you know.
He was covered in soot from his head to his toe,
He looked like a homeless guy down on skid row.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
His pupils dilated, and don’t think I’m joking
I wondered what kind of mistletoe he’d been smoking.
For one thing he giggled a lot from his belly,
So his man-boobs they jiggled like silicone jelly.
Santa, I said, you’re looking quite punchy
He said got some cookies? I’m getting the munchies.
Then he stood and addressed me, as he straightened his spine,
It’s Christmas Eve what the hell are you doing online?
These people on facebook they’re not your real friends
They don’t really care – it’s all just pretend!
But Santa you yourself tried to friend me, I mentioned.
He said I was just trying to get your attention!
I started to argue then put up no fight,
I realized that Santa Claus surely was right.
Facebook friendship is nothing, it’s nada, it’s zip
It was supposed to be fun but it’s really a gyp.
I smiled and Kris Kringle saw I understood
And he took a long puff from his pipe made of wood
He held in his breath, grinned, and said “HydroPonic
Sure helps those darn elves grow some damn righteous chronic!"
I said dope and Santa – aren’t those two antithetical?
He said hey back off man my mary-jane’s medical!
Why don’t you try daily hoof-kicks to the head
While you’re trying to rig eight crabby reindeer to your sled.
Then up the chimney he went, which wasn’t so easy,
His bulk was tremendous, and the flue tight and squeezy,
Then he sprang to his sleigh, well not sprang, more like fell,
And away they all flew like a bat out of hell.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Now get the hell out of your house for the night!”
Then my computer it died with a sad little sputter
Maybe from all that spilled Vons peanut butter
But then my heart gave a discreet little flutter
As I heard Old Saint Nick had some last words to utter.
He yelled from afar be like Holmes not Moriarty
Be like Rick in Casablanca don’t be like Ugarte
I figured that meant don’t be dumb be a smartie,
So I rose and got dressed and I came to this party.
So to you my real friends, or those Cam did invite,
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
A
