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'Twas the night before G2G, when all through the forum
Not a creature was stirring, not close to a quorum;
The Fords were all parked by the house with care,
In hopes that Ole Thomas soon would be there;
The drivers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of four-wheeling danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in her lap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nightcap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to pickups below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a convoy of four-wheelers, and three cases of beer,
A Ford diesel racer, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Tom… his tongue alick.
More rapid than turbos his coursers they came,
As Tom whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Casey! now, Pat!, and the two Bunnies!
On, Marty! on Ben! on, and the rest of the honeys!
To the top of the hill! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the mountain-top the coursers they flew,
With the trailer full of CR, and Lostmybeer too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The yelling and singing and one little woof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the hill ole Tom drove with a screeching loud sound.
He was covered in dirt, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of trikes he had flung on in the back,
And he looked like a plumber exposing his crack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
The droll on his mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beer foam on his chin as white as the snow;
The stump of a bottle he held tight in his teeth,
And the froth it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, his carefree old self,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave all to know they had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And puked in the toilet; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his middle finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the hillside he drove;
He sprang to his Ford, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all drove away like the roar of a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"HAPPY G2G TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GREAT DAY!"
Tom... Is that really you? Thank goodness you are okay. I saw your **** plastered all over milk cartons in the stores along Broadway. I was out walking around looking for you yesterday. I overheard some guys talking about a hunk of a man driving fast, and as I turned to look I thought I caught a glimpse of you but was not sure. The guys on the corner thought it was you because they recognized your pic on the milk carton.
Seriously, if that can really occur on this site, I am glad you are busy working. Let me know before hand if you are in the area again and I will buy you a cup of mud.
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