The Views From The Top Holiday Poem about Sant Anthony or Santanoni for you losers.
Twas the night before “Insert your own politically correct holiday here”, and all thru the campsite,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Teejay looking for a bite,
The wool stockings were hung carefully out on a tree,
Because they smelled to high heaven from hiking thru scree,
The hikers were nestled all snug in there mummy sleeping bags,
Having visions of mountains to climb, explore, view and tag,
And Papabear with his bandana, and Darren with his booze,
Had just settled down to take a long winter snooze,
When out in the cripple brush there arose such a freaking clatter,
I sprung up from my sleeping bag and said what the heck is the matter,
Away to the tent door I rolled over in a daze,
I opened up the zipper so quick you’d be amazed,
The moon of Sherpa Kroto was seen by all,
You know Paul, you should pull up your bib-overalls,
When, what to my wandering eyes should appear,
But a beast sled and eight VFTT’ers,
With a HarryK driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he had finally had brought the fix,
More rapid than Stinkyfeet climbing the winter 4K they came,
And he blew his safety whistle, and shouted, and called them by name,
“Now Dax! Now, Snowshoe!, now, Peakbagr and Nancy!
On Grumpy! On Skimom! On, Postrboy and Dave Metsky!
To the top of the warming tent! To the top of the wall!
Now hike away! Hike away! Hike away all!
Blue’s dry cornbread angered the black bears to want to attack,
When the VFTT’ers meet with such an obstacle, they go off trail and bushwhack,
So up to the tent top the VFTT’ers had snuck up to,
With a beast sled full of goodies and HarryK too,
And then, in a rumble, I heard on the roof,
The loud obnoxious and fumbling of the troupe,
As I drew my hand on a hard powerbar, and was turning around,
In the door came HarryK dressed as a clown, (all the Santa Claus costumes were already rented.)
He was dressed in goretex, from head to toe,
His clothes were all covered with Adirondack mud for show,
A bundle of hiking gear he flung from his back,
But where was the “Doctor.” to make me more like Shizzmac?
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, except for Spongebob’s because he is a jerk,
And laying his finger aside his nose,
And giving a nod, he stepped on my toes!
He sprang to the beast sled and gave his rag tag team a whistle,
And away they all hiked faster than a missile,
But I heard him exclaim, as they hiked out of sight,
“Happy Festivus*** to all Aye! And to all a good night!”
***Feats of strength aluminum pole needed to celebrate Festivus not included.