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The Night Santa Brought Us Weed

Twas the night before Christmas and all were in need as we waited for Santa who had promised us Weed. Our parents were sleeping with not a clue in their heads that their children were Stoners and away from their beds. The cheetos had been placed on the table with care with an idea dear Santa soon would be there. The winter was cold with no time for a snack hoping Kris Kringle would come with fresh Pot from his sack. I had been to the Bank and had obtained hordes of cash with a fervent desire St. Nick would bring the best of his Stash. We had our concerns for a reasonable fellow who was honest and straight... no harshing our mellow. The time had been set as I looked at the clock knowing the waiting was tense and we needed our Pot. And then from the porch a strange sound did we hear but it was only friend Jim who had gone for some beer. I stared out the window and peered through the snow and we were greatly concerned whether Santa would show. And then from the street... what did I observe? A '72 ford Pinto... which was stuck on the curb. The engine was smoking and the tires were flat and with the windows quite frosted... I reached for my bat. This didn't look good as I gave way to doubt. Wondering who was the driver and who would come out? And who should come forth? But Santa himself who was all bearded and fat, a jolly old Elf. He climbed to our rooftop... was nimble and quick thus avoiding the doorbell... this fella was slick. He was now in the chimney and this lightened our hearts and we knew he was close when we heard the Elf fart. And then in an instant the Big Guy appeared but asking double the price for which we had feared. We told him our troubles as he pondered our point, he then lowered the price on every third Joint. The payment was made and the dope was obtained and up the chimney he rose unconcerned for the flame. I'll remember that night... for it was a doozy when Santa came through... and brought me a Doobie. As he drove out of sight... I heard him calling my name... Merry Christmas to all and goodnight Mary Jane. The End *For those who are interested. I will be posting my cartoon 'Bob's your Uncle' on my homepage. A new one will appear every second day.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 4/8/2019 2:50:00 PM
Santa must stop at the shops around to get his grass.. lets hope the raindeers do't get fooled. much enjoyed the old night before Xmas.
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Date: 4/5/2019 12:41:00 PM
And I can't even use the word "erection"? But, non-seriously, this is quite a head-romp. Thanks for nudging open the Christmas cannabis closet
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David Mchattie
Date: 4/5/2019 12:56:00 PM
Glad you enjoyed it. Keep it frosty my friend.
Date: 4/3/2019 12:45:00 PM
OM goodness, David. A FAV! So funny, And so perfect in every line. Anyone who ever toked, gets this, Even the non tokers. It's totally appropriate and not offensive, Panagiota
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David Mchattie
Date: 4/3/2019 4:46:00 PM
Thanks, I was a little concerned about posting it.
Date: 4/3/2019 5:02:00 AM
Ha ha, very witty and entertaining!
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David Mchattie
Date: 4/3/2019 4:46:00 PM
Thanks for dropping by.
Date: 4/2/2019 5:15:00 AM
The rhyming of this was so happy, snappy, and fun. This line alone had me on the floor kicking my feet up in hilarity: "We knew he was close, when we heard the Elf fart." Loved it! This is the only poem about drugs I have EVER thought was amusing, so Jan and I had the same feelings here, once again. Shock.
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David Mchattie
Date: 4/3/2019 4:47:00 PM
Glad you enjoyed it.
Date: 4/1/2019 5:17:00 PM
Very clever, David. As far as Santa goes, it's the end of the 'Age of Innocence,' anyway. LOL. ~ Gershon
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David Mchattie
Date: 4/3/2019 4:47:00 PM
Spot on comment.
Date: 4/1/2019 11:54:00 AM
I never thought I'd laugh at a poem about drugs (my sons 2 friends brothers aged 19 and 20 died from a drugs related incident) but this is hilarious David!:-) hugs jan xx
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David Mchattie
Date: 4/1/2019 1:42:00 PM
My friends and I were lucky it never led to anything more extreme. Considering the devastation of hard drugs in North America, I hope this poem is not too out of place.

Book: Shattered Sighs