HUMOR
‘Twas Christmas Eve in the PrisonATLANTA, GA 24 December 2009 |
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For years my grandfather, Irwin Alton Simpson, recited this poem every Christmas Eve, usually after a few shots of whisky. I’m not sure of its origin or when and where he first heard it, but he was an advertising man in Manhattan and, later, the Ad Director for the St. Petersburg (FL) Times, so he knew a ton of bawdy jokes and dirty limericks. (This poem is pretty tame compared to some he knew.)
After he died, the torch was passed to my father, Richard Irwin Simpson, who did an equally fine job, as he was also an ad man. He still recites the poem, even if it’s sometimes over the phone. James Irwin Simpson, that’s me, will be the next torch bearer.
With much love on this Christmas Eve, I share with you all this poem.
‘Twas Christmas Eve in the prison and the warden was walking the halls
Shouting ‘Merry Christmas, prisoners!’ and the prisoners replied, ‘Balls!’
This made the warden quite angry and he swore by all the gods,
‘You shall have no Christmas pudding, you dirty lowdown dogs!’
Then up spoke one old prisoner with face as hard as brass,
‘Warden, you can take your Christmas pudding and shove it up your ass!’
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I liked this poem, Jim. Also, not to rewrite it or anything, but if you took out the word “Warden” and replaced it with “Rudolph” I think it would work just as well, too.
Just a thought…
That is a great poem, Jim!
I also just read your bio and laughed out loud!
My husband thinks I’m crazy, cause I’m all by myself in here.
(But there may be other contributing factors at play here.)
Keep on carrying that torch, Jim. You’re doing a fine job.
Heh.
Balls.
Twas the night before Christmas, and in all Cell Block D,
Not a creature was stirring — not a creature but me.
[OK, someone else write the next line...]
We all hid our contraband inside of our hair,
In the hope that the warden wouldn’t check there.
I wrote on my Korean blog a version of ‘Twas the night before Christmas’ that was all relating to pop culture. A few K-bloggers have done the same, with some very funny results –
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through Korea,
The spicy Christmas dinner gave foreigners diarrhea’.
We also did versions of ‘I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus’ and my one started –
‘I saw my wife kissing G-Dragon, (a popular Korean singer)
in between the kimchi pots last night’
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and in all Cell Block D,
Not a creature was stirring – not a creature but me
We all hid our contraband inside of our hair
In the hope that the warden wouldn’t check there
Christmas hour was nigh and I hoped none would spoil it
Or rat me out for the whisky I brewed in my toilet
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and in all Cell Block D,
Not a creature was stirring – not a creature but me
We all hid our contraband inside of our hair
In the hope that the warden wouldn’t check there
Christmas hour was nigh and I hoped none would spoil it
Or rat me out for the whisky I brewed in my toilet
When out on the landing there arose such a din
The gates were thrown open and Santa flew in
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and in all Cell Block D,
Not a creature was stirring – not a creature but me
We all hid our contraband inside of our hair
In the hope that the warden wouldn’t check there
Christmas hour was nigh and I hoped none would spoil it
Or rat me out for the whisky I brewed in my toilet
When out on the landing there arose such a din
The gates were thrown open and Santa flew in
The reindeer were drinking and Santa was spewing
It was clear to see that trouble was brewing
When all of a sudden there arose such noise
The inmates were restless, but boys will be boys
[Tag! someone else is IT.]
Brilliant! I love this poem.
Good job, Zara!
We need someone to do the next two lines of Greg’s and then mine!
(This one is a community effort.)
(Merry Christmas to all, from my home to yours, everyone.)
Good job, you too, David!
You folks on the other side of the globe keep writing when it looks like there’s nothing up.
It’s confusing!
See? Now Simon just appeared above me too.
Good job, Simon!
Thanks Irene!
We’re now up to this:
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and in all Cell Block D,
Not a creature was stirring — not a creature, but me
We all hid our contraband inside of our hair
In the hope that the warden wouldn’t check there
Christmas hour was nigh and I hoped none would spoil it
Or rat me out for the whisky I brewed in my toilet
When out on the landing there arose such a din
The gates were thrown open and Santa flew in
The reindeer were drinking and Santa was spewing
It was clear to see that trouble was brewing
And all of a sudden there arose such noise
The inmates were restless, but boys will be boys
We all of us tugged on his red velvet cape,
And cried, “Santa Claus! Santa Claus! Help us escape!”
Perfect!