A Christmas Repost December 24, 2009Posted by eric22222 in General.
I wrote this last year, and thought I’d be good to share it once more:
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a sound could be heard save the click of the mouse.
A bright LCD screen illuminated my face
As I sat up in bed, surfing cyberspace.
I’d wrapped up my presents with mathematical precision
Which now sat ‘neath the tree, next to the television.
‘Twas a yuletide display of exquisite design
To interior decorating, a veritable shrine.
Now e-mail was checked, and double-checked, too,
Facebook, Slashdot, and Digg, they’d all been reviewed.
Even StumbleUpon had run out of good sites,
So it seemed a good time to turn in for the night.
When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
My eyes still adjusting to the low-light conditions
Left me naught but sound to examine the apparition.
A listen check of 16 (+3 modifier)
Revealed that the sound came from somewhere up higher.
I knew who it must be, no need for more proof:
It just had to be Santa Claus up on my roof.
I ran to the chimney filled with anticipation,
Bringing out milk and cookies in quick preparation.
My eyes were affixed to the fireplace flue
When someone opened the front door and then walked right through.
I had expected someone jolly, of holiday fame,
But this figure was sullen, with coke-bottle frames.
He wore a red button-up with unmatching bow tie,
And his dorky green slacks were hiked up too high.
A fine pocket protecter was kept in his shirt,
And his hair in a bowl-cut so awful it hurt.
The outrageous display made him look such a fool,
His level of awesome underflowed back to cool.
He spoke not a word (he was socially inept)
But got straight to work; to the stockings he crept.
He reached into his backpack where he stored all the gifts,
And he filled them right up; he was awfully swift.
I saw freeware and pageviews (the number was shocking).
Lolcats and macros flew into my stocking.
He picked up my laptop I had left by his snacks
And he cleaned out the malware, quick as a flash.
He spotted me watching (I failed my hide check),
So I gave him the Vulcan salute from Star Trek.
He waved nervously, gave a nod and a grin
And headed back out the same way he had been.
With his job now complete, he pulled out his Blackberry.
Did he call to his sleigh team? No, on the contrary.
I gave him my wireless router’s password,
And into the series of tubes dove the nerd.
He’d swim through the net to the next geek’s abode
To leave gadgets and programs and fix his buggy code.
But I heard him exclaim as he went on his way,
“Great, I’ll be here all night. You’re on 56k.”
Also of relevance, Pirate Santa: