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’Twas the Night Before Canada Day

Another Fine Homemade Parachute Page, Crafted With Love

'Twas the night before Canada Day, when all through the igloo
Not a hoser was stirring, not even for a brew-
Ski;
The snowshoes were hung by the outhouse with care,
In hopes that @jdalrymple soon would be there;

The mooselings were nestled all snug in their holes;
With visions of grizzly bears dancing on some po—
Wait, that was me…
And mamma in her goalie helmet, and I in my Rush shirt,
Had just finished a two-four, we weren't feelin' any hurt,

When out on the snow there arose such a fuss,
I sprang from my hammock, hockey hair all a-mussed,
And what to my wandering eye did appear,
But a giant toboggan pulled by eight cans of beer,

With a big furry driver so grouchy and grim
I knew in a moment he must be St. Jim.
More rapid than curling stones his coursers they came,
And he slurred, and burped, and called them by names:

"Now, Heineken! now, Heineken! now Heineken and Heineken!
On, Heineken! on, <burp!> Heineken! on, Heineken and <toot!> Heineken!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the stair!
C'mon, brother, you can carry me, I'm all gas, mostly air!"

And then, in a twinkling, I heard by the outhouse
The stumbling and staggering, like a bull moose and spouse!
As I stuck out my head, I'd never heard worse:
In the crapper door came St. Jim with a curse.

He was dressed all in beard, from his head to his foot,
And his "clothes" were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of iWatches he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a hobo who'd lost at the track.

His eyes—they were dark, like a moon hidden by eclipse!
His cheeks were like bearskins, his nose over his lips!
His big grinning mouth spread from ear to ear,
And the hair on his chin was all sticky with beer;

The stump of a smoke he chomped tight like a log,
The smoke encircled his head just like Toronto smog;
He had a furry face and a furrier belly—
Jeez, I wished he'd worn a shirt, even if it were smelly…

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
And first stole all the snowshoes, then a swig from his flask,
And laying his hand on the back of his hip,
His back it did creak, and he muttered "Aw, shit…"

He lurched to his 'boggan, to his team gave a fart,
And away they all flew like a wobbly lawn dart.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove them away—
"Happy fuckin' Canada Day to all, now take off, eh?"

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