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Array
(
[sid] => 139390
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Morn' Before Christmas (Part 1)
[time] => 2007-12-25 04:59:55
[hometext] => By Craig Chirinda
[bodytext] => T'was the morn’ before Christmas; just after dawn. Watching Bush on my Plasma-screen; I felt I needed to yawn. I peered out of my window; to admire my artificial English lawn. Before I could do anything; I was interrupted by my stupid cursed phone! I picked it hurriedly; as I really wanted to be left alone. On the phone was my damsel Susanna; sounding musical with fright. She said something about her dryer: about it not working right. T'was her hair dryer; it had just exploded with great might. "My jet-black hair is gone,” she said. "There is not a single lock left in sight" "Oh!" I gasped "Why did this have to happen before tonight?" I tried to console her; but the woman had certainly gone mad. I said I would buy her the best wig; she said she wanted me dead. I said “Maybe the bald head looks stylish; maybe it didn’t at all look bad” But my talking didn’t help; it only made her angry and sad. Surely this had to be some hallucination; was it a dream in my blessed head? We were going out that evening; to the annual Charity ball The ball was going to be close to the newly built Trump mall I told her I would figure something out; later I was going to call. I started thinking hard; until my head felt like it was starting roll. If I glued a wig to her head; would it stay put and not fall? [comments] => 1 [counter] => 158 [topic] => 43 [informant] => chirinda [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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