Wednesday, December 27, 2006

That is the night before the Christmas

You may remember my slightly strange activity that I call retransing, which is using an online translator to translate into, and back from a foreign language in order to create something funny, (or just completely random.) I am at it again.

In the spirit of the Holiday, I present to you, A Visit from St. Nick.

That is the night before the Christmas, passing by the house completely because the mouse is not made equal, you stirred any creative things which are not,

The stocking caught with the smokestack of worry of the desire that, St. Nicholas directly is there,

As for offering/accompanying with their beds as for range of vision of the candy it danced with the head, but you drew close entirely securely

And for napping the long winter, it solved mamma of her handkerchief, and I of my hats exactly,

When with the lawn that kind of the sound which is said shakily happening there, as for problem those which are in order to see I leapt from the bed.

I like the flash flew in the window, pulled the shutter which was opened and tore, and threw on the sash.

Month of chest of snow which was dropped newly gave the gloss of noon to purpose next

The miniature sleigh, and the reindeer of 8 minimum something to the eyes which are thought in my doubt should appear, the time

The small old operator and, therefore and it was fast actively, I had known when that becomes St. Nick,

Quicker that coursers than ワシ it came, he blew called the whistle, shouted, and those with appointing;

"Now, Dasher! Now, the dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! Comet! Cupid! Donder and Blitzen!

On porch! On wall! The current dash which leaves! Dash! Be mixed up do everything!

When meeting to the leaf and the obstacle which "it flies before the hurricane of the wildness and dries,

So it threw as a mount to the sky to house-top, coursers of toy and complete sleigh of St. Nicholas.

And next, with glitter, I inquired about prancing and pawing of the hoof where each is small with the roof.

That I pulled by my hand, turned simultaneously, Nicholas came with the limit under saint of the smokestack.

As for him, the clothes to that feet from that head of all furs as for arrival and that clothing all ashes and the smut it changed color;

He threw with that, and depending upon him like the fair entrance of the itinerant merchant the bundle of the toy where that pack is visible.

Whether -- those shone or, that eye! The cheerful how that cavity! That cheek seemed like that nose like the rose and the cherry!

The that droll small mouth was pulled like the bow, self-depreciation of that jaw the snow was white;

The smoke which surrounds that head like the flower garland and the stump of the tube which he grasps hard with that tooth;

There was a wide surface in him, the small circular stomach shook, that him like bowlful of the jelly when laughing.

He is chubby, in spite even in by my I meet to him the time, portly you laugh, the right being pleasant, the old elf, me;

The ま of that eye twist of going back and forth and that head in order to know that has nothing the fact that I fear, gave me directly;

He spoke the word which is not, but it advanced to that work straightly, and satisfied stocking everything;

The fact that side you put that finger of the urgent movement, and that nose, and the fact that signal on the smokestack is given, then being turned, he rose stand;

He leapt to that sleigh, it gave the whistle to that team, like the feather of everyone thistle it flew.

But as for me before he drove from vision, "everything happy Christmas to everything he who inquires about that you shout is completed cripes."

Wow...just wow. Yeah, don't ask. I have NO idea where "cripes" even came from. Soon we'll have the outcome of the Trivial Pursuit competition. So far we've found out that we are pretty even, (the Brother in Law has a half game edge,) and we shouldn't let my Mum play, she aparently knows almost everything...about everything...except maybe basketball.

I will provide the final results as soon as they are available, as well as the results of the impromptu billiards tournament that has been going on. Until then I leave you with:
"Dash! Be mixed up do everything!"

All for now,


Blogger Joy said...

*blank stare*

I never thought I would hear "smut" in this children's poem.


12/27/2006 10:20 PM  
Anonymous JM said...


1/12/2007 5:35 PM  

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