It is Christmas Eve, so time for me once again to apologize to Clement Clarke Moore and share my adaptation of his classic for the digital age.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Enjoy!

‘Twas the day before Christmas, when at my house

I was at the computer, moving the mouse;

It was time for another Friday Funny, does anyone care

If in the morning, the email inbox has a funny there?

Two of my boys were still nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of homemade cookies danced in their heads;

While mamma was working, I was off for the day,

It seemed like there was nothing funny for me to say,

When out on the Internet there arose such a clatter,

I sprang to my browser to see what was the matter.

Away to another window I flew like a flash,

Hoping as always that my computer would not crash.

The back-lighting of the monitor produced a glow

Which gave a slight luster to objects below,

As I wondered from web site to web site what should appear,

But a miniature sleigh jpg, complete with reindeer,

With a little driver icon, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than dsl downloads his cursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, Yahoo! now, Google! now, Facebook and Amazon!

On, ebay! on youtube! on, myspace and ask.com!

To the top of the screen! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

As deleted lines that before the backspace button fly,

When they meet with a click, mount to the sky,

So up to the screen-top the cursers they flew,

With a file full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the speaker

The prancing and pawing of each little squeaker.

As I drew in my hand, and was scrolling around,

Downloading an mpeg, St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was digitally dressed from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were photo-shopped with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had superimposed on his back,

And he looked like a Trojan file just opening his pack.

His eyes — they pulsated! his dimples they grew!

His cheeks had roses painted on them, his nose was blue!

His droll little mouth transfigured to a bow,

And the beard of his chin turned into white snow;

His pipe was a tree stump he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke wafted up and became a green wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed and turned into jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

Two winking eyes and a fast spinning head,

Soon gave me to know I had no virus to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

He backed up my hard drive; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the window he rose;

He sprang to his jpg, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he deleted his cookie from sight,

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

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