An Entertaining Ditty

Commenter an observer posted this in the comments at the Woman and the Dragon. I could not let it get lost in the comments, so here it is reproduced as is for your enjoyment:

On the train, here i sit
Riding the rails, hating it
Going to work, another day
Same old shit, just new day

Surrounded by women, i just want to scream
All playing for women, the indivisible team
Heads up their arses, eyes on their phones
Praying for affirmation, dont throw them a bone

I roll into work, early as hell
Hope for a good day, too soon to tell
Boss bitch aint here yet, thats a good start
On hubs number two, no way shes all heart.

Blondes to the right of me, cows on all sides
Land whales are common, stretched clothes dont hide
Hr’s been regraded, jobs for the girls
Salute team woman flag, whilst it unfurls

I did the right thing, and got a degree
Born the wrong gender, dont waste tears on me
A middle aged man, bottom of the hierarchy
A much hated member of the oppressive patriarchy

Oh cubicle world, such a strange place
A sanitised and identical, six by six space
Privacy and respect a thing of the past
Enjoy the decline, eat and drink whilst it lasts

Corporate busywork beckons, perhaps i should go
Producing report, tables and graphs for people who dont know
Corporate climbers, back stabbers and sociopaths are thee
That rule cubicle plebs, and failed professionals like me

Land whales, and entitlement hangs in the air,
If only policies and guidelines meant it would go nowhere
With saturnalia coming soon, most parents take leave
So the childless, and the single, keep working to breathe

Let think i a grinch, keep reading to see,
The effect the holiday season, really has on me. . .

One late Christmas Eve after I’d staggered to my bed
Reeking of booze and sore in the head
I woke with a headache to the barking of dogs
Cursed neighbours at length and sought out my clogs.

‘Twas on hands and knees that I fell down the stairs
Wishing I’d never matched drink-for-drink those damn Bundy bears
The atm receipts told their own sorry tale,
A long night of woe consuming too many an ale.

Downstairs in the lounge was the big Christmas tree
Lights blinking and flashing but no presents for me
The high cost of toys meant nothing was free
Except the pain of paying for it all, you see.

The credit cards were nestled with their overworked credit lines
The banks were making money, with many fees and fines,
I couldn’t remember how I fell into such debt
But recalled record bank profits, no end in sight yet.

In the kitchen, there was candy and chocolate and sugar,
My waistline was expanding and becoming more fuller,
The end of year showed as there was nothing to see,
With dreadful shows screening all day on TV

The lounge looked a mess and the kitchen no better,
The fridge gaped open and spilt milk made it wetter,
The kids dirty washing was draped on the floor with much care,
In hopes that a washerwoman, soon would be there.

I’d driven up to the house over a drive strewn with toys,
Doubtless left out by hurried girls and boys
High as kites on fast food and red cordial to boot,
But they still managed to sleep, without giving a hoot.

Twas late that same night and still wide awake
Guzzling wine and many biscuits lest someone else should take
A soft knock at the door brought my AK to heel
Clicking in the first cartridge, the lead warm to the feel.

Ho ho ho, outside softly whispered a big man in red,
I’ve got something for you, was the last thing he said,
Yes, thanks for that, you housebreaker, I’ve seen your boot tread,
For you I have plenty of hot, shiny lead.

The sack full of “toys” fell straight to the ground,
And many bags of white powder were spread all around,
At least I’d made good, my much hurried aim,
It was in self defence, I still had to claim.

I couldn’t believe it when finally it was done
That fake jolly fat man selling drugs on the run
The irritating Christmas music and extra pay lost in tax
Perhaps over this break I could finally relax

Santa looked up to smile, one last time at me
I smiled and smiled back as happy as can be
I said to the kids “move on, back to bed, it’s too late for tea”
Their grief at a shot Santa was not good to see

Soon after many police came to see me,
And after taking a lengthy statement, as efficient as can be,
They guided me back to my warm comfy bed,
Where visions of presents and sugar plums danced right through my head

In my dream the solicitor yelled in that cold winters night
“Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight”

The very next morning when I woke from my dreams,
My sanity was back in its place so it seemed.
I knew it was real as the lawyer left me a note
Merry Christmas you Grinch, while I enjoy my new boat

He’d left his invoice at the end of my bed
A jolly big total at the end of it said:
“My very best helper the best of them all
Thanks to you, a new Beemer, much sooner than ‘Fall.”

After waking I dressed and stumbled to the tree
I looked at the presents but what could I see
Shocked children so traumatised their gifts were still wrapped
The spouse winked and I yawned, needing a nap

Now every Christmas since then I remember the sight
When a lowlife drug dealer slid into the night
So what if the gang should decide to revenge kill
The AK is waiting, and a cartridge is filled.

Every year since then when bells make their way down
To ring out the fun when another Santa comes to town
I will always remember that magical night
When bad Santa rode to the moon wishing us a good night

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