Twas The Byte Before Computing Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a circuit was working not even in my mouse; The files were all loaded on the hard disc with care, In hopes that the FAT would list them as there. The backups were nestled all snug in their sleeves, To keep the bytes from dropping off them like leaves; And the disc drive was quiet, taking a rest Just waiting to run the next boot-up test. When out of the speaker there arose such a clatter I sprang to my desk to see what was the matter. Away to the keyboard I flew like a flash, Threw open the drive-door and heard a loud crash. The lights on the breast of the new-fallen dust Gave a luster of mid-day to a CRT covered with crust. When what to my wondering eyes did appear, But a miniature sleigh and the eight data registers I fear. With a little old driver, so lively and gloss I knew in a moment he was a master of DOS. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled out and called them by name "Now Binkley! Now Maximus! Now timEd and Squish! On, Telix! On, X00! On, Bark and WaZoo! To the top of the memory! To the top of the stack! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!" As leaves before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky, So up on the screen the coursers they flew, With a sleigh full of utilities, and DOS commands too. As I drew back my head and was turning around, Out the RS-232 port he came with a bound. He was dressed all in ROM, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with bytes and some soot; A bundle of data he had flung on his back, And he looked like he had a program he wanted to crack. His eyes -- How they twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose was a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow; The stump of a pipe he held in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a round little belly That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A flash of the CRT and a twist of his head Soon gave me to know I had lost programs to dread; He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the RAM; then turned, the big jerk, And laying a finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, in the RS-232 port he goes. He sprang to the sleigh, his team they all whistled, And away they all flew like they had sat on a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he faded out of sight, "Bug-free programs to all and to all a good night!" By Bert Happel (with apologies to Clement C. Moore) CHOCOLATE CHRISTMAS Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips Were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips. Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care, In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there. While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps. When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash, Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash. The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below. When what to my wandering eyes should appear: A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer! That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick. The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer, I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear; On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS A Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox. From the top of the scales to the top of the hall Now dash away pounds; now dash away all. Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress My clothes were all bulging from too much excess. My droll little mouth and my round little belly They shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly. I spoke not a word but went straight to my work Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk. And laying a finger beside my heartburn Gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned. I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry If temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by. And I mumbled again as I turned for the night "In the morning I'll starve... 'til I take that first bite!" Twas The Night Before Ramadan 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 fire pit 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 AAVs 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!" is 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 a Marine Corps 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!" from twistedhumor.com