Latest Feghoots

Archived Feghoots
1 - 50
51 - 100
101 - 150
151 - 200
201 - 250
251 - 300
301 - 350
351 - 400
401 - 450
451 - 500
501 - 550
551 - 600
601 - 650
651 - 700
701 - 750
751 - 800
801 - 850
851 - 900
901 - 950
951 - 1000
1001 - 1050
1051 - 1100
1101 - 1150
1151 - 1200
1201 - 1250
1251 - 1300
1301 - 1350
1351 - 1400
1401 - 1450
1451 - 1500
1501 - 1550
1551 - 1600
1601 - 1650
1651 - 1700
1701 - 1750
1751 - 1800
1801 - 1851
1851 - 1900
1901 - 1950
1951 - 2000
2001 - 2050

Shaggy Origins

What's New

Site FAQ

The Night Before Christmas Parodies VII (Senior Citizens Style)

We continue with Stan Kegel's collection of these seasonal variations and parodies.


'Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest,
And all of us seniors were looking our best.
Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry:
The punchbowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.

A bedsock was taped to each walker, in hope
That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.
We surely were lucky to be there with friends,
Secure in this residence and in our Depends.

Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts,
Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.
The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,
And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath

The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row,
Reflecting our candles' magnificent glow.
Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop --
Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.

Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great,
Ten puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.
The social director then had us play games,
Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?"

Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,
Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.
Our resident wand'rer was tied to her chair,
In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.

Security lights on the new fallen snow
Made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.
Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter
(But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter).

A strange little fellow flew in through the door,
Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.
'Twas just our director, all togged out in red.
He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.

We knew from the way that he strutted and jived
Our social-security checks had arrived.
We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak,
Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight p.m. stroke.

And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds,
While nurses distributed nocturnal meds.
And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest.
Soon you'll be with us; we wish you the best.

(Anonymous)


Served by Austin Web Publishing, Inc.

Sponsored by search engine marketing firm Apogee Search, providers of world class paid search advertising management and search engine optimization services. Apogee Search is a division of internet marketing firm Leads Customers Growth.

Designed and maintained by Brian Combs (info@briancombs.net).

(c) 1996-2006 Alan B.
& Brian P. Combs,
All Rights Reserved