It’s that time of year.
A time for laughter, a time for cheer.
A time to sleep late.A time to eat great.
Oh yes, it’s that time of year.

It’s that time of year to sip your finest booze,
While you fantasize about motorboating your cousin’s boobs.
It’s that time to smoke your finest green,
In the backyard where you can’t be seen…
Seen by your folks, of course,
While they try to hide their own sexual intercourse.
It may be gross. It may be bad,
But you know you still love your mom and dad.
Especially at this time of year,
When they don’t get mad at you for drinking all their beer.

Cocaine as white as snow
Gives you that healthy glow, that get up and go.
Lets you shop til you drop or drink til you stink.
Stink of Christmas cheer
And Bacardi clear.

Noses filled with dope
And nice warm overcoats.
Bonfires line the levee
As our eyelids get nice and heavy.
It’s too much fun, it’s too much rum,
It’s too much getting drunk and dumb.

It’s a time to be happy, a time to be depressed.
It’s a time to hold that smoke deep in your chest.
It’s a time to puff and a time to pass,
It’s a time to put cookies out for Santa’s fat ass.
What’s the deal with cookies, anyway?
Wouldn’t Santa rather be dazed?
Why don’t we wait up and blaze?
Then we’ll send him on his way.

He’ll fly off into the night,
And we’ll wish we could join his graceful flight.
Santa covers plenty of ground
As he flies round and round.
What is he on? It must be speed.
He wasn’t even daunted by that weed.

Wow! What a life! Only working once a year.
Not to mention having pet reindeer.
And a slew of elves to make his toys
For all of those little girls and boys.

Wait, those aren’t elves.
Those are midget slaves,
Working for no wage.
Does he keep them in a cage?
I know I would.
They’d probably steal all of the toys and burn down the North Pole.
Could you imagine the death toll?
Trolls running wild…

The Catholics were right.
Let’s keep Christ in Christmas.