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Array ( [sid] => 169417 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => 'Twas The Night Before Fatso [time] => 2011-12-18 18:34:58 [hometext] => American actor Alec Baldwin was recently removed from an American Airlines passenger 'plane. Alec Baldwin refused to stop using his Ipad after being told to turn it off to prepare for take-off. He was taken off before take-off. [bodytext] => 'Twas The Night Before Fatso

A Christmas Figgy Pudding

'Twas the night before fatso and all through the 'plane,
Not a creature was stirring: not even William Devane.

Caviar was readied in first-class with care,
In hopes that a gastronome soon would be there.

The children were nestled near the bulkhead asleep,
Far from the cockpit, counting white sheep.

Julia Roberts in her kerchief, Hugh Grant in his cap,
Had just settled down for a cross-country nap.

When out on the runway there arose such a chatter,
They sprang from their seats to see what was the matter.

Away to the front door they rushed quickly,
Striding, bounding and running: not at all sickly.

The moon shining brightly on all things below,
Gave luster to Alec: a cheery warm glow.

And, as they all watched, he said to his driver:
"You're not a reindeer -- get out and open my door!"

The little old man ran 'round to obey,
But Alec was not in a good mood that day.

More rapid than eagles his curses they came,
He whistled and shouted foul oaths and bad names.

Beetlejuice! Beethoven! Beef Wellington! Rod Steiger!
Pancakes, apple dumplings and Michelle Pfeiffer!

His former girlfriends and wives were hitched to his sleigh,
And he called upon them to help him make his way.

Now Hilaria, now Kim! Now Nicole and Tatum!
On Jennifer! On Holly! On Anna, and Kristen!

To the top of the gangplank! Hear the Captain's call!
Now, dash away, dash! 'Til I'm less wide than tall!

As page after page in a bad screenplay fly,
Alec jumped on the 'plane with an angry eye.

So into first-class he with curses fast flew,
To sit in the front, as he is oft wont to do.

He was dressed all in silk and had gel in his hair,
With his Hollywood manners, none could compare.

A bundle of Ipads he had flung on his back,
He looked like Saint Nicholas opening his pack.

He turned on his Ipad to tweet and to twit,
To type words polite, apropos, kind and fit.

His web, how it Twittered! His Sugarplum, Fairy!
He wrote about turkey and sauce of cranberry!

His volatile temper was all set to blow,
And the hair on his temples was white as the snow.

The last of a Tic-Tac he held tight in his mouth,
As a Union General invading the South.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
Hilaria had made him some apricot jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right angry old elf,
And in first-class they espied him on Twitter by stealth.

A glance from his eye and a twitch of his head,
Soon told them that he was a fatso to dread.

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
Twittering "Words With Friends," like Mephisto's clerk.

The first-class attendant asked him to quit,
But he squealed and Twittered away at a clip.

She asked him again yet still he typed on,
It seemed that he wanted to Twitter 'til dawn.

Shrieking and sputtering he said, "Go away!
I have people to see and places to play!"

Then laying his finger aside of his nose,
With an irate shout, from his seat he rose.

He was thrown off the 'plane by the Captain's whistle,
And away he flew like the down of a thistle.

But they heard him exclaim 'ere he was chauffeured out of sight,
"I'll never come back! Now you're in for a fight!" [comments] => 1 [counter] => 70 [topic] => 7 [informant] => CalebBoone [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
'Twas The Night Before Fatso

Contributed by CalebBoone on Sunday, 18th December 2011 @ 06:34:58 PM in AEST
Topic: HumorPoetry



'Twas The Night Before Fatso

A Christmas Figgy Pudding

'Twas the night before fatso and all through the 'plane,
Not a creature was stirring: not even William Devane.

Caviar was readied in first-class with care,
In hopes that a gastronome soon would be there.

The children were nestled near the bulkhead asleep,
Far from the cockpit, counting white sheep.

Julia Roberts in her kerchief, Hugh Grant in his cap,
Had just settled down for a cross-country nap.

When out on the runway there arose such a chatter,
They sprang from their seats to see what was the matter.

Away to the front door they rushed quickly,
Striding, bounding and running: not at all sickly.

The moon shining brightly on all things below,
Gave luster to Alec: a cheery warm glow.

And, as they all watched, he said to his driver:
"You're not a reindeer -- get out and open my door!"

The little old man ran 'round to obey,
But Alec was not in a good mood that day.

More rapid than eagles his curses they came,
He whistled and shouted foul oaths and bad names.

Beetlejuice! Beethoven! Beef Wellington! Rod Steiger!
Pancakes, apple dumplings and Michelle Pfeiffer!

His former girlfriends and wives were hitched to his sleigh,
And he called upon them to help him make his way.

Now Hilaria, now Kim! Now Nicole and Tatum!
On Jennifer! On Holly! On Anna, and Kristen!

To the top of the gangplank! Hear the Captain's call!
Now, dash away, dash! 'Til I'm less wide than tall!

As page after page in a bad screenplay fly,
Alec jumped on the 'plane with an angry eye.

So into first-class he with curses fast flew,
To sit in the front, as he is oft wont to do.

He was dressed all in silk and had gel in his hair,
With his Hollywood manners, none could compare.

A bundle of Ipads he had flung on his back,
He looked like Saint Nicholas opening his pack.

He turned on his Ipad to tweet and to twit,
To type words polite, apropos, kind and fit.

His web, how it Twittered! His Sugarplum, Fairy!
He wrote about turkey and sauce of cranberry!

His volatile temper was all set to blow,
And the hair on his temples was white as the snow.

The last of a Tic-Tac he held tight in his mouth,
As a Union General invading the South.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
Hilaria had made him some apricot jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right angry old elf,
And in first-class they espied him on Twitter by stealth.

A glance from his eye and a twitch of his head,
Soon told them that he was a fatso to dread.

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
Twittering "Words With Friends," like Mephisto's clerk.

The first-class attendant asked him to quit,
But he squealed and Twittered away at a clip.

She asked him again yet still he typed on,
It seemed that he wanted to Twitter 'til dawn.

Shrieking and sputtering he said, "Go away!
I have people to see and places to play!"

Then laying his finger aside of his nose,
With an irate shout, from his seat he rose.

He was thrown off the 'plane by the Captain's whistle,
And away he flew like the down of a thistle.

But they heard him exclaim 'ere he was chauffeured out of sight,
"I'll never come back! Now you're in for a fight!"




Copyright © CalebBoone ... [ 2011-12-18 18:34:58]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: 'Twas The Night Before Fatso (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Monday, 19th December 2011 @ 07:29:10 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Fatso's a jerk 'n' ya caught the nonsensical of his bein' not much more than a loud mouthed arrogant clown. Right on! Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas. He ain't that worthwhile as an actor, either. Git off the plane, Jerk!!!!!!
wabl
KenMoore
cowboypoet




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