Wednesday, December 17, 2008


'Twas da night before Christmas,
You hear what I'm sayin?
And all through South Philly,
Sinatra's Christmas tunes was playin'.

Da sink was piled high,
Fulla dirty dishes,
From da big Italian meal
Of gravy and seven fishes.

Da brats were outta hand
From eatin too much candy.
We told them to go to bed
Or there wouldn't be no Santy.

And me in my sweatpants,
Da wife's hair fulla rollers,
Plopped our butts on the sofa
To fight over the remote controllers.

When out in da shtreet,
There was all dis friggin' noise.
It sounded like a mob hit,
Ya know, by Merlino and his boys.

I trew open da stormdoor
To look and see who's who.
Like a nosy little old lady
Who's got nuttin' better to do.

In da windows of da rowhomes
Stood white tinsel trees.
And those stupid moving dolls
You get on sale at Kindy's.

When what should I see,
Comin' from afar.
But fat Uncle Nick
In his big ole Towne Car.

He was swervin' and cursin',
Givin' all da gas he got;
As he barreled up the shtreet,
Looking for a spot.

More faster than Santa,
My drunk Uncle came;
Wit a car full of relatives,
All drunk just the same.

Yo Angie! Ay Dino!
Vic, Gina, and Pete.
He yelled out there names,
Then spit a loogee in da shtreet

I can't find no spot nowheres
Pissed off, he said.
So he double-parked the Lincoln ,
And came in to hit da head.

As he hugged me, he burped,
And passed a loada gas.
It stunk up da house,
Like a rotten sea bass.

His coat was pure cashmere,
His pinky ring shined;
His toupee was all twisted,
The front was now behind.

He ran up to da bathroom,
Bangin' pictures wit his hips.
Never lettin' da smelly stogie
Fall from his lips.

With eyes oh so bloodshot,
And a butt, oh so flabby;
In walked Aunt Angie,
All dolled-up and crabby.

Jeat yet? she asked,
As she thundered to da kitchen;
All da calamaris gone?
Aunt Angie started bitchin'.

In came Cousin Gina,
In Guess jeans too tight.
She was bathed in Obsession,
Her hair reached new height.

In strut Cousins Dino,
Little Petey and Vic;
Shovin' pizzelles down their throats,
It was makin' me sick.

I said, What da hell
Are all youse people doin?
Not one of them answered,
They was too busy chewin'.

Uncle Nick came down at last.
His face was beet red.
Sorry I missed da toilet.
I pissed in the tub instead.

That was it, I had had it.
I yelled, get the hell out.
Uncle Nick looked real puzzled.
Cousin Gina started to pout.

Wit that they mumbled curses,
And opened a Strawbridge's bag.
And fumbled round to find da gift
Wit our name on da tag.

I felt kinda stupid,
As I thanked them for their gift.
But they stormed out da stormdoor,
All of 'em miffed.

We tore open da paper
That was taped on and on.
It was a bottle of Sambuca,
And half of it was gone.

But I heard Uncle Nick yelling
As he slammed on da gas.
Merry Christmas, ya ingrate!
You can kiss my ass!

Yo. Happy Holidays, a'ight?

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