Warning! This poem contains foul language and the subject matter is intended for those who share my warped sense of humor (or humour for my European friends). If you are easily offended or devoutly religious, you should probably skip this one. That said, my apologies to Dr. Seuss.



And all the Hos knew there
was something quite odd
about this strange little
self-professed servant
of God



Father Xmas

Every ** down in Hoville
liked ******* a lot
but the Priest who lived
just north of Hoville did not

The Priest hated *******
(at least with the women)
He much preferred cute
little boys for his sinnin'

Why he was so nasty
and hateful and sly
I guess no one really
could understand why

Some said he was born
with only one ball
Some said that his shorts
were two sizes too small

But whatever the reason
his shorts or his *****
He hated the Hos
both the tall and the small

'When the clocks strike eleven
I know just what they’ll do
They will take off their clothes
and commence a ** *****'

'And they’ll ***** and they’ll *****
till their screwers are sore
Then they’ll all take a break
and start ******* some more'

And the more the Priest thought
of the Hos and their *******
the more the priest thought
'they must stop what they're doing'

'I could call the police
Have them taken to jail'
But the Hos knew good lawyers
and would quickly make bail

'Then they’d all wander home
and resume the ** *******
They’d resume the ** hand jobs
They’d resume the ** *******'

Then he threw up his hands
and said 'Oh what the Hell!
If I fancied ***** I’d be
******* as well'

So the Priest left the Hos
to their ****** ploys
and he climbed into bed
with two altar boys.