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Flamin' heck. Trying to get some sleep when all of a sudden, the ruddy dog goes berserk. Wouldn't shut up, even when I beaned him with a work boot. Finally got up to see what the fuss was about and some bugger's dumped stuff all over the lounge room and nicked the rest of me scotch:mad:
Richard
Where'd he be... not here yet... Im waiting for new toys!
So, did you call the police to report it?
Are they on the lookout for the crim?
Wanted: Jolly old fat guy, red hat, white beard, red suit, last seen travelling at mach 12 yelling "ho...ho...ho...ly shoot, where are the &^$%&^% brakes!?!"
Merry Christmas, from the land of the KFC Christmas dinner. :eek: :rolleyes: :D
Did he look like this one.
I have been asked why I was not seen on Santas lap.
Oh - both persons in this photo are forum members.
yep and the one in the red suit's looking pretty poor for a jolly fat guy IMHO, needs a good feed, maybe a green apple as well, or would that just be confusing:D .Quote:
Originally Posted by lesmeyer
Not written by me, but from someone by the name of Hjalmar
A Jule Saga
'Twas the night before Jule and all through the castle
Not a creature was stirring, not even a vassal.
The Christians were hung on their crosses with care
With hopes that more would be joining them there.
The Vikings were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of plundering danced in their heads.
I, out of my tunic with a wench in my lap
Had just jumped into bed for a roll in the sack.
When out on the ramparts there arose such a clatter
We had to stop what we were doing to see what the matter.
Away to the window I went after a few moments
And threw open the shutters and shouted to the bowmen.
The moon, like a breast, so big and round,
gave a milky appearance to things to the ground.
When what did my bleary eyes have to fathom,
but a miniature war chariot and eight tiny dragons.
With a hunch backed old driver so menacing and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be that Christian, St. Nick.
Faster than falcons his serpent they came,
and he cursed and he shouted and he called them by name.
"On Claw and Killer, on Fang and Berserker,
on Titan, on Hercules, on Destruction and Death!"
"To the top of the tower, to the top of the wall,
now gnaw away, claw away, slash away all!"
As the Horde in battle that leaves everything dead,
When they met with an obstacle they ripped it to shreds.
Across the ramparts they killed and they slew,
with that old war chariot and St. Nicholas, too.
In a few moments my armor I donned,
As the fighting grew louder from the courtyard beyond.
I had just drawn my broad sword and was turning around,
when down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in armor with a helm on his head,
And his tarbard was stained with blood of the dead.
And old battle-axe he held tight in his hand,
And it dripped with the blood of many a good man.
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a sneer,
he was dirty and dank and smelled of old beer.
He was short and dark, a typical Christian,
he never had any fun, you could see by his expression.
He spoke not a word but gave a scream and a yell,
and fought like a Banshee, who came straight from hell.
We fought in the courtyard, we fought on the walls,
we fought in the yard, and we fought in the halls.
And finally with a snap, I cut off his nose,
He gave a loud curse, and up the chimney he rose.
He jumped into his chariot, to his team gave a shout,
and they fled in the night, like the Christians in rout
And I heard him shout, as he flew into the night,
"Happy Yule to all, and that was one hell of a fight!"