Walden in “On Vodka, on Soda, on Blender, on Mixer!”

Not a creature was stirring, not even a leech.

Alan was nestled, all snug in his bed

While visions of lesbians danced in his head.

Brooke and Jenny were sleeping, a long winter's nap

Surrounded by bottles with nary a cap.

Jenny was nervous and frightened, but took a big chance.

She let Brooke in her heart, as well as her pants.

While Berta in her vest and I in my hattie

Had just baked our brains out with a big Christmas fatty.

We started to doze, we hadn't a care.

Happy Christmas to all. My balls have no hair.