A new version of CRX-mas
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Joined: Aug 2002
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From: Los Angeles, CRX Heaven
A new version of CRX-mas
‘Twas the night before CRX-mas and all through the ‘hood,
Not a creature was stirring, the bad and the good.
Away in their garage, carport or parking spot,
The Hondas were dry and secure, no chance of rust’s rot.
Dreaming of a visit from an old jolly elf,
And of winning trophies to put on the shelf.
When from out of my sleep, a noise I did hear,
Someone was in the house, messing with my stuff, I did fear.
Out of bed and down the hall I did creep,
Getting the shotgun, and not making a peep.
Peering around the corner, who did I spy?
Some fat sweaty bastard, a red suited-guy.
Pointing my blaster, I told him to freeze.
And to put down my stuff, but move slowly if you please.
“You got it wrong, I bring presents, I’m not here to loot
I am a good guy, I bring cheer, so please do not shoot.”
Not wearing my glasses, I had to look twice.
Because his face looked familiar, he seemed kind of nice.
“Normally I work as a greeter at the Wal-Mart down the block,
I got a second job working for Santa, I got debt and I’m in deep hock.”
“Santa would like to have been here, to travel his usual course.
But to save money and lower his costs, he used labor from an out-source.”
“I’ve brought presents for the Car Guy in the family.
Parts that will bring performance, as you can clearly see.”
My eyes lit up, at the sight of what he brought
The entire list of parts, stuff that I have so long sought.
With delight he described stuff that his sack did hold,
Although his voice was a bit rough, I think he was catching a cold.
“Sticky tires, light wheels and brand new bushings,
Because all cars, on the track or the road, can use those things.”
“A turbo, NOS and a super charger
For those who need to go even harder.”
But as he continued I thought I saw him nearly cry,
For the next thing phrase he said, he said with a sigh.
“For Ricers and Poseurs it is always hard to find stuff,
Because wings, stripes and stickers are never enough.”
And so it was time for him to continue his rounds
He slipped out of the house, without making a sound.
And into his ride, a funky old car
I was not sure it would take him very far.
He fired it up and I could hear that it was actually a keeper
It was fixed up under the hood, the car was deceptively a sleeper.
So away he did drive, around the corner and out of sight
As he left I heard him say, “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.”
Scott
Not a creature was stirring, the bad and the good.
Away in their garage, carport or parking spot,
The Hondas were dry and secure, no chance of rust’s rot.
Dreaming of a visit from an old jolly elf,
And of winning trophies to put on the shelf.
When from out of my sleep, a noise I did hear,
Someone was in the house, messing with my stuff, I did fear.
Out of bed and down the hall I did creep,
Getting the shotgun, and not making a peep.
Peering around the corner, who did I spy?
Some fat sweaty bastard, a red suited-guy.
Pointing my blaster, I told him to freeze.
And to put down my stuff, but move slowly if you please.
“You got it wrong, I bring presents, I’m not here to loot
I am a good guy, I bring cheer, so please do not shoot.”
Not wearing my glasses, I had to look twice.
Because his face looked familiar, he seemed kind of nice.
“Normally I work as a greeter at the Wal-Mart down the block,
I got a second job working for Santa, I got debt and I’m in deep hock.”
“Santa would like to have been here, to travel his usual course.
But to save money and lower his costs, he used labor from an out-source.”
“I’ve brought presents for the Car Guy in the family.
Parts that will bring performance, as you can clearly see.”
My eyes lit up, at the sight of what he brought
The entire list of parts, stuff that I have so long sought.
With delight he described stuff that his sack did hold,
Although his voice was a bit rough, I think he was catching a cold.
“Sticky tires, light wheels and brand new bushings,
Because all cars, on the track or the road, can use those things.”
“A turbo, NOS and a super charger
For those who need to go even harder.”
But as he continued I thought I saw him nearly cry,
For the next thing phrase he said, he said with a sigh.
“For Ricers and Poseurs it is always hard to find stuff,
Because wings, stripes and stickers are never enough.”
And so it was time for him to continue his rounds
He slipped out of the house, without making a sound.
And into his ride, a funky old car
I was not sure it would take him very far.
He fired it up and I could hear that it was actually a keeper
It was fixed up under the hood, the car was deceptively a sleeper.
So away he did drive, around the corner and out of sight
As he left I heard him say, “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.”
Scott
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