'Twas the night before SantaCon when all through the town,
Not a creature was stirring, not even Willie Brown.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Candy Crush danced in their heads.
And mom in her ‘snuggie, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the street there arose such a clatter,
So I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a troupe of d-bags in Santa’s red gear.
Their boozing and howling, it woke the whole city,
“Ho, Ho“ they guffawed and vowed to get shitty
For the populace, terrified, living in fear
Of these Duff drinkers, soused on the sudsiest beer
These hipsters in costumes and techies with bells
Were dropped on my corner by the Google bus from hell
They now came a-knocking, no presents in hand
Just their hooting and boozing, their Pabsts in their cans
Now holiday spirit is one thing, I sighed
but this Yelping, these selfies, I just can’t abide
Obnoxious day drinking, and safety in numbers
These costumed buffoons gallivant unencumbered
So this I say, with a tear in my eye,
Is why these helpers of Santa must quietly die.
So back to Menlo, this is the last call
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all.
To Palo, to Woodside, to Soma, San Bruno
Goodbye Tyler, Easton, Asher, and, Juno
Go home to Frat Mason, don’t put up a fight
And to all a merry Christmas—and a silent fucking night.