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Poem
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.
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