<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<rdf:RDF xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:default="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:admin="http://webns.net/mvcb/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><default:channel xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:admin="http://webns.net/mvcb/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" rdf:about="http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/"><title>THE Place for all things llama and/or crap....</title><link>http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/</link><description></description><dc:language xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/">en-UK</dc:language><admin:generatorAgent xmlns:admin="http://webns.net/mvcb/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" rdf:resource="http://www.blog.co.uk"/><sy:updatePeriod xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/">hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/">8</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/">2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><image><title>THE Place for all things llama and/or crap....</title><link>http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/</link><url>http://data5.blog.de/design/preview/ca/ccf9534ae3ee11c1c62afb963449f8_160x200.jpg</url></image><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/2005/12/18/x_mas_present_1_poems~396678/"/><rdf:li rdf:resource="http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/2005/12/18/greetings~396603/"/></rdf:Seq></items></default:channel><default:item xmlns:default="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" rdf:about="http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/2005/12/18/x_mas_present_1_poems~396678/"><default:title>X-Mas Present #1 (Poems)</default:title><default:link>http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/2005/12/18/x_mas_present_1_poems~396678/</default:link><dc:date xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/">2005-12-18T18:09:31+01:00</dc:date><default:description>	&lt;p&gt; &lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt; &lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Some Assembly Required (A Poem For Parents)&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house&lt;br&gt;
I searched for the tools to hand to my spouse&lt;br&gt;
Instructions were studied and we were inspired,&lt;br&gt;
In hopes we could manage "Some Assembly Required."&lt;br&gt;
The children were quiet in their beds,&lt;br&gt;
While Dad and I faced the evening with dread:&lt;br&gt;
In the kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's town house to boot!&lt;br&gt;
And, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!&lt;br&gt;
We opened the boxes, my heart skipped a beat....&lt;br&gt;
Let no pieces be missing or parts incomplete!&lt;br&gt;
Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;&lt;br&gt;
If we can't get it right, it goes down in the basement!&lt;br&gt;
When what to my worrying eyes should appear,&lt;br&gt;
But 50 sheets of directions, concise,but not clear,&lt;br&gt;
With each part numbered and every slot named,&lt;br&gt;
So if there were failure, only we could be blamed.&lt;br&gt;
More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out,&lt;br&gt;
All over the flour they were scattered about.&lt;br&gt;
"Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there!&lt;br&gt;
Slide on the seats, where the metal is bare!&lt;br&gt;
Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand."&lt;br&gt;
"Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand.&lt;br&gt;
"And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact&lt;br&gt;
That all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact&lt;br&gt;
To keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night&lt;br&gt;
With "assembly required" till morning's first light.&lt;br&gt;
We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work,&lt;br&gt;
Till our eyes, they went bleary; our fingers all hurt.&lt;br&gt;
The coffee went cold and the night it wore thin&lt;br&gt;
Before we attached the last rod and last pin.&lt;br&gt;
Then laying the tools away in the chest,&lt;br&gt;
We fell into bed for a well-deserved rest&lt;br&gt;
But I said to my husband just before I passed out,&lt;br&gt;
"This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.&lt;br&gt;
Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring,&lt;br&gt;
And not have to run to the store for a thing!&lt;br&gt;
"We did it! We did it! The toys are all set&lt;br&gt;
For the perfect, most perfectest Christmas, I bet!"&lt;br&gt;
Then off to dreamland, at last sweet repose&lt;br&gt;
I gratefully went, although I suppose&lt;br&gt;
There's something to say for those self-deluded&lt;br&gt;
I'd forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;The Week Before Christmas (A Poem for Teachers)&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;'Twas the week before Christmas and all through the school&lt;br&gt;
Not a pupil was silent, no matter what rule.&lt;br&gt;
The children were busy with paper and paste;&lt;br&gt;
The mess that they made with it couldn't be faced.&lt;br&gt;
The teacher half frantic and almost in tears,&lt;br&gt;
Had just settled down to work with her dears,&lt;br&gt;
When out in the hall there arose such a clatter&lt;br&gt;
up sprang the kids to see what was the matter!&lt;br&gt;
Away to the door they all flew like a flash;&lt;br&gt;
The one who was leading went down with a crash.&lt;br&gt;
Then what to their wondering eyes did appear&lt;br&gt;
But a green Christmas tree! (To decorate I fear!)&lt;br&gt;
When the teacher saw this, she almost grew sick.&lt;br&gt;
She knew in a moment it must be Old Nick!&lt;br&gt;
She ran to the door (all her efforts were vain)&lt;br&gt;
But she shouted, and stamped, and she called them by name;&lt;br&gt;
"Now Tommy! Now Sandy, Now Judy and Harry!&lt;br&gt;
Stop Billy! Stop Robert! Stop Donny and Sherry!&lt;br&gt;
Now get to your places get away from the hall&lt;br&gt;
Now get away! Get away! Get away all!&lt;br&gt;
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly&lt;br&gt;
The pupils, pell mell, started scurrying by.&lt;br&gt;
They ran to the blackboard and skipped down the aisle;&lt;br&gt;
Their faces were shining and each had a smile.&lt;br&gt;
First came a basket of popcorn to string&lt;br&gt;
 -Then came the Christmas tree (menacing thing).&lt;br&gt;
As the tree was brought in there arose a great shout;&lt;br&gt;
The pupils were merrily romping about.&lt;br&gt;
The state they were in could lead to a riot;&lt;br&gt;
The teacher was sure, if allowed, they would try it.&lt;br&gt;
Her nerves how they jangled! Her temples were throbbing!&lt;br&gt;
The rush of her breath sounded almost like sobbing!&lt;br&gt;
The lines of her face were as fixed as a mask;&lt;br&gt;
It was plain that she didn't feel up to her task.&lt;br&gt;
The look in her eye would have tamed a wild steer,&lt;br&gt;
But the children ignored it; they did every year.&lt;br&gt;
A tear from her eye and a shake of her head&lt;br&gt;
Soon led me to think that she wished she were dead.&lt;br&gt;
She spoke not a word but went straight to her work,&lt;br&gt;
Strung all the popcorn which broke with a jerk.&lt;br&gt;
But at last it was finished and placed on the tree;&lt;br&gt;
Then came the bell and the children were free.&lt;br&gt;
Their shrill little voices soon faded away&lt;br&gt;
And peace was restored at the end of the day.&lt;br&gt;
As she looked at the Christmas tree glistening and tall,&lt;br&gt;
She smiled as she whispered, Merry Christmas to all!&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt; Have Yourself a Microsoft Christmas &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house&lt;br&gt;
Not a creature was stirring, except Papa's mouse.&lt;br&gt;
The computer was humming, the icons were hopping,&lt;br&gt;
As Papa did last-minute Internet shopping.&lt;br&gt;
The stockings were hung by the modem with care&lt;br&gt;
In hope that St. Nicholas would bring new software.&lt;br&gt;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,&lt;br&gt;
While visions of computer games danced in their heads.&lt;br&gt;
PageMaker for Billy, and Quicken for Dan,&lt;br&gt;
And Carmen Sandiego for Pamela Ann.&lt;br&gt;
The letters to Santa had been sent out by Mom,&lt;br&gt;
To &lt;a href="mailto:santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com"&gt;santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com&lt;/a&gt; -&lt;br&gt;
Which has now been re-routed to Washington State&lt;br&gt;
Because Santa's workshop has been bought by Bill Gates.&lt;br&gt;
All the elves and reindeer have had to skedaddle&lt;br&gt;
To flashy new quarters in suburban Seattle.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;After centuries of a life that was simple and spare,&lt;br&gt;
St. Nicholas is suddenly a new billionaire,&lt;br&gt;
With a shiny red Porsche in the place of his sleigh,&lt;br&gt;
And a house on Lake Washington that's just down the way.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;From where Bill has his mansion. The old fellow preens&lt;br&gt;
In black Gucci boots and red Calvin Klein jeans.&lt;br&gt;
The elves have stock options and desks with a view,&lt;br&gt;
Where they write computer code for Johnny and Sue. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;No more dolls or tin soldiers or little toy drums&lt;br&gt;
Will be under the tree, only compact disk ROMS&lt;br&gt;
With the Microsoft label. So spin up your drive,&lt;br&gt;
From now on Christmas runs only on Win95.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;More rapid than eagles the competitors came,&lt;br&gt;
And Bill whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.&lt;br&gt;
"Now, ADOBE! now, CLARIS! now, INTUIT! too,&lt;br&gt;
Now, APPLE! and NETSCAPE! you are all of you through,&lt;br&gt;
It is Microsoft's SANTA that the kids can't resist,&lt;br&gt;
It's the ultimate software with a traditional twist -&lt;br&gt;
Recommended by no less than the jolly old elf,&lt;br&gt;
And on the package, a picture of Santa himself.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Get 'em young, keep 'em long, is Microsoft's scheme,&lt;br&gt;
And a merger with Santa is a marketer's dream.&lt;br&gt;
To the top of the NASDAQ! to the top of the Dow!&lt;br&gt;
Now dash away! dash away! dash away - wow!"&lt;br&gt;
And Mama in her 'kerchief and I in my cap,&lt;br&gt;
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,&lt;br&gt;
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,&lt;br&gt;
The whir and the hum of our satellite platter,&lt;br&gt;
As it turned toward that new Christmas star in the sky,&lt;br&gt;
The SANTALITE owned by the Microsoft guy.&lt;br&gt;
As I sprang from my bed and was turning around,&lt;br&gt;
My computer turned on with a Jingle-Bells sound.&lt;br&gt;
And there on the screen was a smiling Bill Gates&lt;br&gt;
Next to jolly old Santa, two arm-in-arm mates.&lt;br&gt;
And I heard them exclaim in voice so bright,&lt;br&gt;
Have a MICROSOFT CHRISTMAS, and TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;A Dieter's Christmas&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;'Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips&lt;br&gt;
Were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.&lt;br&gt;
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care&lt;br&gt;
In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.&lt;br&gt;
While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps&lt;br&gt;
Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.&lt;br&gt;
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter&lt;br&gt;
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.&lt;br&gt;
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash&lt;br&gt;
Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.&lt;br&gt;
The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow&lt;br&gt;
Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.&lt;br&gt;
When what to my wandering eyes should appear:&lt;br&gt;
A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!&lt;br&gt;
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick&lt;br&gt;
I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.&lt;br&gt;
The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer&lt;br&gt;
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;&lt;br&gt;
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS&lt;br&gt;
A Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.&lt;br&gt;
From the top of the scales to the top of the hall&lt;br&gt;
Now dash away pounds now dash away all.&lt;br&gt;
Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress&lt;br&gt;
My clothes were all bulging from too much excess.&lt;br&gt;
My droll little mouth and my round little belly&lt;br&gt;
They shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.&lt;br&gt;
I spoke not a word but went straight to my work&lt;br&gt;
Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.&lt;br&gt;
And laying a finger beside my heartburn&lt;br&gt;
I gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned.&lt;br&gt;
I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry&lt;br&gt;
If temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by.&lt;br&gt;
And I mumbled again as I turned for the night&lt;br&gt;
In the morning I'll starve...'til I take that first bit&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt; &lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt; &lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Well, I did say it would be crap.....&lt;img src="/img/smilies/graysleep.gif" alt=":zz:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/grayconfused.gif" alt=":??:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/graysigh.gif" alt=":**:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_yawn.gif" alt=":yawn:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/2005/12/18/x_mas_present_1_poems~396678/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</default:description><content:encoded xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><![CDATA[	<p> <img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"> <img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"></p>
	<p>Some Assembly Required (A Poem For Parents)</p>
	<p>'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house<br>
I searched for the tools to hand to my spouse<br>
Instructions were studied and we were inspired,<br>
In hopes we could manage "Some Assembly Required."<br>
The children were quiet in their beds,<br>
While Dad and I faced the evening with dread:<br>
In the kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's town house to boot!<br>
And, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!<br>
We opened the boxes, my heart skipped a beat....<br>
Let no pieces be missing or parts incomplete!<br>
Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;<br>
If we can't get it right, it goes down in the basement!<br>
When what to my worrying eyes should appear,<br>
But 50 sheets of directions, concise,but not clear,<br>
With each part numbered and every slot named,<br>
So if there were failure, only we could be blamed.<br>
More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out,<br>
All over the flour they were scattered about.<br>
"Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there!<br>
Slide on the seats, where the metal is bare!<br>
Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand."<br>
"Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand.<br>
"And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact<br>
That all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact<br>
To keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night<br>
With "assembly required" till morning's first light.<br>
We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work,<br>
Till our eyes, they went bleary; our fingers all hurt.<br>
The coffee went cold and the night it wore thin<br>
Before we attached the last rod and last pin.<br>
Then laying the tools away in the chest,<br>
We fell into bed for a well-deserved rest<br>
But I said to my husband just before I passed out,<br>
"This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.<br>
Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring,<br>
And not have to run to the store for a thing!<br>
"We did it! We did it! The toys are all set<br>
For the perfect, most perfectest Christmas, I bet!"<br>
Then off to dreamland, at last sweet repose<br>
I gratefully went, although I suppose<br>
There's something to say for those self-deluded<br>
I'd forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!</p>
	<p>The Week Before Christmas (A Poem for Teachers)</p>
	<p>'Twas the week before Christmas and all through the school<br>
Not a pupil was silent, no matter what rule.<br>
The children were busy with paper and paste;<br>
The mess that they made with it couldn't be faced.<br>
The teacher half frantic and almost in tears,<br>
Had just settled down to work with her dears,<br>
When out in the hall there arose such a clatter<br>
up sprang the kids to see what was the matter!<br>
Away to the door they all flew like a flash;<br>
The one who was leading went down with a crash.<br>
Then what to their wondering eyes did appear<br>
But a green Christmas tree! (To decorate I fear!)<br>
When the teacher saw this, she almost grew sick.<br>
She knew in a moment it must be Old Nick!<br>
She ran to the door (all her efforts were vain)<br>
But she shouted, and stamped, and she called them by name;<br>
"Now Tommy! Now Sandy, Now Judy and Harry!<br>
Stop Billy! Stop Robert! Stop Donny and Sherry!<br>
Now get to your places get away from the hall<br>
Now get away! Get away! Get away all!<br>
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly<br>
The pupils, pell mell, started scurrying by.<br>
They ran to the blackboard and skipped down the aisle;<br>
Their faces were shining and each had a smile.<br>
First came a basket of popcorn to string<br>
 -Then came the Christmas tree (menacing thing).<br>
As the tree was brought in there arose a great shout;<br>
The pupils were merrily romping about.<br>
The state they were in could lead to a riot;<br>
The teacher was sure, if allowed, they would try it.<br>
Her nerves how they jangled! Her temples were throbbing!<br>
The rush of her breath sounded almost like sobbing!<br>
The lines of her face were as fixed as a mask;<br>
It was plain that she didn't feel up to her task.<br>
The look in her eye would have tamed a wild steer,<br>
But the children ignored it; they did every year.<br>
A tear from her eye and a shake of her head<br>
Soon led me to think that she wished she were dead.<br>
She spoke not a word but went straight to her work,<br>
Strung all the popcorn which broke with a jerk.<br>
But at last it was finished and placed on the tree;<br>
Then came the bell and the children were free.<br>
Their shrill little voices soon faded away<br>
And peace was restored at the end of the day.<br>
As she looked at the Christmas tree glistening and tall,<br>
She smiled as she whispered, Merry Christmas to all!</p>
	<p> Have Yourself a Microsoft Christmas </p>
	<p>'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house<br>
Not a creature was stirring, except Papa's mouse.<br>
The computer was humming, the icons were hopping,<br>
As Papa did last-minute Internet shopping.<br>
The stockings were hung by the modem with care<br>
In hope that St. Nicholas would bring new software.<br>
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,<br>
While visions of computer games danced in their heads.<br>
PageMaker for Billy, and Quicken for Dan,<br>
And Carmen Sandiego for Pamela Ann.<br>
The letters to Santa had been sent out by Mom,<br>
To <a href="mailto:santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com">santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com</a> -<br>
Which has now been re-routed to Washington State<br>
Because Santa's workshop has been bought by Bill Gates.<br>
All the elves and reindeer have had to skedaddle<br>
To flashy new quarters in suburban Seattle.</p>
	<p>After centuries of a life that was simple and spare,<br>
St. Nicholas is suddenly a new billionaire,<br>
With a shiny red Porsche in the place of his sleigh,<br>
And a house on Lake Washington that's just down the way.</p>
	<p>From where Bill has his mansion. The old fellow preens<br>
In black Gucci boots and red Calvin Klein jeans.<br>
The elves have stock options and desks with a view,<br>
Where they write computer code for Johnny and Sue. </p>
	<p>No more dolls or tin soldiers or little toy drums<br>
Will be under the tree, only compact disk ROMS<br>
With the Microsoft label. So spin up your drive,<br>
From now on Christmas runs only on Win95.</p>
	<p>More rapid than eagles the competitors came,<br>
And Bill whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.<br>
"Now, ADOBE! now, CLARIS! now, INTUIT! too,<br>
Now, APPLE! and NETSCAPE! you are all of you through,<br>
It is Microsoft's SANTA that the kids can't resist,<br>
It's the ultimate software with a traditional twist -<br>
Recommended by no less than the jolly old elf,<br>
And on the package, a picture of Santa himself.</p>
	<p>Get 'em young, keep 'em long, is Microsoft's scheme,<br>
And a merger with Santa is a marketer's dream.<br>
To the top of the NASDAQ! to the top of the Dow!<br>
Now dash away! dash away! dash away - wow!"<br>
And Mama in her 'kerchief and I in my cap,<br>
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,<br>
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,<br>
The whir and the hum of our satellite platter,<br>
As it turned toward that new Christmas star in the sky,<br>
The SANTALITE owned by the Microsoft guy.<br>
As I sprang from my bed and was turning around,<br>
My computer turned on with a Jingle-Bells sound.<br>
And there on the screen was a smiling Bill Gates<br>
Next to jolly old Santa, two arm-in-arm mates.<br>
And I heard them exclaim in voice so bright,<br>
Have a MICROSOFT CHRISTMAS, and TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.</p>
	<p>A Dieter's Christmas</p>
	<p>'Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips<br>
Were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.<br>
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care<br>
In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.<br>
While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps<br>
Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.<br>
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter<br>
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.<br>
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash<br>
Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.<br>
The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow<br>
Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.<br>
When what to my wandering eyes should appear:<br>
A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!<br>
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick<br>
I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.<br>
The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer<br>
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;<br>
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS<br>
A Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.<br>
From the top of the scales to the top of the hall<br>
Now dash away pounds now dash away all.<br>
Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress<br>
My clothes were all bulging from too much excess.<br>
My droll little mouth and my round little belly<br>
They shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.<br>
I spoke not a word but went straight to my work<br>
Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.<br>
And laying a finger beside my heartburn<br>
I gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned.<br>
I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry<br>
If temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by.<br>
And I mumbled again as I turned for the night<br>
In the morning I'll starve...'til I take that first bit</p>
	<p> <img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"> <img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_crazy.gif" alt=":crazy:" class="middle" border="0"></p>
	<p>Well, I did say it would be crap.....<img src="/img/smilies/graysleep.gif" alt=":zz:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/grayconfused.gif" alt=":??:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/graysigh.gif" alt=":**:" class="middle" border="0"><img src="/img/smilies/icon_yawn.gif" alt=":yawn:" class="middle" border="0">
</p>
<p> <small> <a href="http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/2005/12/18/x_mas_present_1_poems~396678/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>]]></content:encoded></default:item><default:item xmlns:default="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" rdf:about="http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/2005/12/18/greetings~396603/"><default:title>Greetings</default:title><default:link>http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/2005/12/18/greetings~396603/</default:link><dc:date xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/">2005-12-18T17:43:31+01:00</dc:date><default:description>	&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_wave.gif" alt=":wave:" class="middle" border="0"&gt; Welcome to the blog... leave a message about what you think and/or any suggestions... cheers!!! &lt;img src="/img/smilies/icon_wave.gif" alt=":wave:" class="middle" border="0"&gt;
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&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://llamacrap.blog.co.uk/2005/12/18/greetings~396603/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</default:description><content:encoded xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><![CDATA[	<p><img src="/img/smilies/icon_wave.gif" alt=":wave:" class="middle" border="0"> Welcome to the blog... leave a message about what you think and/or any suggestions... cheers!!! <img src="/img/smilies/icon_wave.gif" alt=":wave:" class="middle" border="0">
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