IJMC - Christmas in Washington
What a scary thought, X-mas like this in D.C. Ah well, it's new for me
and you, hope you enjoy. And a warning. There will be extra IJMC's
tomorrow night...the last for a week or so. -dave
Twas the night before Christmas and throughout the White House,
Al Gore was eyeing Hillary, peering into her blouse.
The Secret Service were guarding the premises with care,
for a whole host of Democrats were vacationing there.
As Chelsea was nestled all snug in her bed,
dirty thoughts swam around Mr. Kennedy's head.
And Bill in his sportcoat; a heavy gray tweed,
had just fried his brain with some Mexican weed.
When out in the garden came a plethora of noise,
all drunken and rowdy: 'twas Newt and the boys!
Bill jumped to the window, and tore open the sash,
"It's a raid boys!" he cried, "Quick, go hide my stash!"
The pot in his blood and the moon on the snow,
gave a psychedelic haze to the objects below.
When what to Bill's frantic eyes should appear,
but a slew of Republicans and a keg of ice beer.
With a big House leader, all lively and fat:
He knew it was Newt, the proponent of GATT!
As viscous as vipers, the Republicans came,
and Bill recognized them and called them by name.
"Hey Helms, Hey Thurmond! Hey Packwood and Hatch!
Hey Dole and Pataki, it's time for a bash!"
A collective cheer rose out from the crowd,
"Let's listen to Nugent, and turn it up loud!"
Together Dems and Republicans danced and sang out in cheer
"Screw health care and Haiti, it's time to drink beer!"
When from the chimney, came a big black cloud of soot,
as Limbaugh danced from the fireplace in a red Santa suit.
He moved through the crowd, then held up his hand,
and when all was silent, he did a keg stand.
And the crowd raised their cups, as Newt bowed down in prayer,
and champagne flowed freely, just like welfare.
As Kennedy and Reno romped in the Green Room,
the rest of the crooks outlined their plan of doom.
"We'll pray in the schools, shove it down their throats!"
"More welfare, more taxes, we'll still get the votes!"
And they drank, hugged and danced, they crossed party lines.
They cheered, "It doesn't matter, we're all bastard swines!"
So they threw out allegiance and partisan crap,
and they took turns sitting on the President's lap.
And Gephardt and Dole passed out on the lawn,
and awoke in the morning without their pants on.
And Packwood gave Tipper a pat on the rear.
While Judge Thomas and Miss Hill went out for more beer.
Then the party-ers discovered a sight so touching and cute,
President Clinton fast asleep, snuggled up next to Newt.
Santa Limbaugh smiled and threw up on his boots,
"A merry Clinton to all, and to all a good Newt!"