The True Santa (A Politically Correct Merry)
What Holiday is it? Any old Holiday will do! We don't discriminate and roast each one equally as well.
'Twas the night before Christmas, Old Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's "politically correct"?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves",
"Vertically Challenged" they're calling themselves!
Labor conditions observed at the (North) pole,
Were alleged by the union, to stifle the soul.
Inspectors from OSHA, for the protection of all,
Claimed Santa's old workshop to be far too small.
Opportunity is Equal, and the law rendered quite clear,
Santa was warned never again to employ just Reindeer.
Four of the team vanished, without propriety,
Released to the wilds, by the Humane Society.
Thus Dancer, Donner and Comet, the tinyest of all,
Were replaced with 3 pigs, you should look in their stall.
A jackall was chosen to replace our dear Cupid,
Boy, don't you know, they all really look stupid!
The shiney brass runners have been removed from his sleigh;
Sled tracks are termed ruts, claimed most dangerous by the E.P.A.
Many towns' people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sleigh noises on their roof-tops.
The long curl of smoke from his large burl pipe,
Gave all his workers the most terrible fright.
The second-hand smoke, they all would acclaim,
Was the source of their sickness and he was to blame.
Animal right groups, would scream year after year,
And condemn poor old Santa over his choice in gear.
That fur trimmed suit, proves your unenlightened,
Covered with soot, even dry-cleaners are frightened.
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Even Rudolf was suing over the unauthorized use of his nose.
He had gone on Gerlado, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; along with his wife,
Who left only a note stating, "she'd enough of this life",
Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Exclaiming from now on, her title was Ms.
As for gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion,
That making a choice could cause such a commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him and nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embelish the truth.
Most of the fairy tales, while not fobidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed the kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.
He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was 'er to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, and every religion;
Every ethnicity, plus every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...Yes, even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
"May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on earth."