Deena, in Goodbye and Good Riddance: My secret santa gift is going to be delayed going out because Kara stole part of it yesterday and I have yet to find it.

Cashmere:

Allyson, every cat deserves a theme song like that. My cat's would go something like this:

Oooooooswald, the evil little kitty
Oooooooswald, he likes to bite my toes and trip me
What the fuck ever possessed me to get another cat

ita, in Natter:

I understand now I will never be the homemaker that my mother is. Which is fair, since she can't kick people in the head.

Fay in F2F:

A Very Buffista Carol

Sprin-kle glitter on accountants falalalala-lala-la-la

Dress them up in shiny gold pants falalalala-lala-la-la

Don we now our gay apparel falalalala-lala-la-la

Yowl the ancient Troll God's carol falalalala-lala-la-la

See the fanfic challenge before us falalalala-lala-la-la

Gird your loins and join the porners falalalala-lala-la-la

Forget the roast and post at leisure falalalala-lala-la-la

Buffistas are true Yule-tide pleasure falalalala-lala-la-la

Our 5x5 True Faith unites us falalalala-lala-la-la

An Angel with dark wings delights us falalalala-lala-la-la

Join we now brothers and sisters falalalala-lala-la-la

Internet family: Buffistas! falalalala-lala-la-la

In Natter:

The Partyman:

Just burnt eggs. Not the best omen.

Daniel C. Jensen:

Only if they are all in one basket.

Then again, cooking eggs in the basket isn't such a good idea.

Unless it's a metal basket like the woman finds in her clothes dryer in that Energizer commercial, and you are boiling them in water, then it might be practical. But remember to use a pot holder, because heat transmits up into the metal handle and it could burn.

DX in Sang Sacre:

Just Another Christmas in Sang Sacre

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the town
Not a creature was stirring, not even a clown.
The party was over, the bar was now closed,
And snowflakes fell gently as everyone dozed.

The penguin was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of herring bits danced in his head,
So I sat in my study late into the night,
And caught up on the board by the monitor's light.

I typed up a note to be posted in Natter,
When out from the street there arose a great clatter.
I went to the window, and peeked though the blind,
Without an idea about what I would find.

The moonlight lit up all the new-fallen snow,
It was bright as midday, the world seemed aglow.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a honking great sleigh with a single reindeer.

But that was no reindeer, 'twas a dog name of Max.
And the back of the sleigh held a great pile of sacks,
And a furry green driver, the reins in his clinch,
I knew in a moment it must be the Grinch.

"We must stop! We must stop!"
His cadence kept drumming
"We must stop! We must stop
This Christmas from coming!
Now wait by the front porch,
I'll go through the door.
We've done all the houses,
There's just this one more."

And the Grinch then hopped down from his elegant ride,
Then he twirled on his heel, and he tip-toed inside.
He gathered up presents, and filled up a sack
And the ornaments, also, were soon in his pack.

The Grinch had been careful so he wouldn't be heard,
But he had not reckoned with the ears of a bird,
So there in the doorway, a penguin quite small,
Was asking why Santa was taking this haul.

But, you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick,
That he thought up a lie and he thought it up quick.
"Why my sweet little bird," —the fake Santa Claus lied —
"There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side."

So he got him a drink, and he patted his head,
And the trusting young penguin went back to his bed.
The Grinch grabbed his pack, and he turned round to flee,
And that's when he saw —unexpectedly —me.

His eyes, now they narrowed, his expression was wary,
His cheeks drained of color, his face wasn't merry.
His mouth came to life, and he muttered, "Oh, bugger..."
Because he had noticed my Louisville Slugger.

He looked all around for a way back outside,
Or at the very least a safe place he could hide.
I moved ever closer as I brandished my bat,
And I said to the Grinch, "It's time we had a chat."

So, converse there we did, I did not raise my voice.
At the end of our chat, I gave him a fair choice.
He could put back the presents, the trees, and the lights,
Or I'd call up a preacher to read him last rites.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And I followed along, to make sure he'd not shirk.
He replaced all the stockings, the gifts, and the trees,
He brought back the roasts and the holiday cheese.

He when he had finished, with the sky turning gray,
He called out for Max, and climbed into his sleigh.
And I yelled after him, 'ere he slunk out of sight,

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Cindy in Bitches (proving that great minds do, indeed, think alike)

'Twas the Night After Solstice sorta by me

'Twas the night after Solstice, when all through Spike's Bitches
Not a creature was stirring, not even hedge witches;
Our stockings were hung by the chimney and yet,
Sean up and walked off with juliana's fence nets;

The Bitches were nestled all snug in their bunks,
Having visions of sugar-plums or just maybe hunks;
Teppy in her ski clothes, but many in gowns,
Had just settled down for their long winter's slounge,

When out on the 'net there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to b.org to check out the Natter.
Using Windows(TM) I flew like a flash,
Clicked open my favorites, avoided the slash.

The moon on the breast of the U.S. midwest
Gave the lustre of mid-day to many of b.org's best
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But ita's wet men, with many near bare!

I'm a little old lady, with dh and sprog,
But too many fine Bitches are in need of a snog.
More rapid than eagles the Bitches they came,
And I whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, TEPPY! now, ERIKA! now, GINGER and SJ!
On, MARIA! on LEE! on, LILTY and SA!
To the top of the page! to the top of the lists!
Now click away! click away! click away Bitches!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to ita's site their Windows they flew,
For an eye full of boys, and that girlie elf, too.

And then, in a twinkling, one of them asked on the 'net
"What about us Bitches who aren't strictly het?"
Unable to help them, I looked down at the ground,
When down the chimney P.M.M. came with a bound.

She was dressed all in leather, from her head to her foot,
Maternity corset laced loosely, dainty foot in wee boot;
A bundle of links she did fling on the board,
She can be such a peddler, she never did hoard.

Her eyes -- how they twinkled! Her dimples how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!
Her droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the skin on her shoulders was as white as the snow;

The core of a apple she held tight in her hand,
(Hey! Princess Ticky Box needs her vitamins, man);
She had a pretty face and a little round belly,
It moved, because there's a baby in there, silly.

She was macking on Fay, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw them, in spite of myself;
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

She spoke not a word, but went straight to her task,
And left many fic links too, we didn't have to ask,
And laying her finger aside of she nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney she rose;

She sprang to her sleigh, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, ere she drove out of sight,
"HAPPY SURFING TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"

Comm'ers Note: Both were posted on Dec. 23. On Dec. 23, 1823, the poem ''A Visit from St. Nicholas'' by Clement C. Moore was first published, in the Troy (N.Y.) Sentinel.

in Bitches, a discussion of actuaries and the frightening number of Bitches with actuarial degrees on the wall:

Betsy HP: Makes a mental note to hang something on the wall, maybe next year

Fay: Maybe an actuary?

billytea: DE-E-E-ECK the halls with act-u-ar-ies, falalalala, falalala/Maaaaybe add a dromedary, falalalala, falalala

(DX, I didn't know you'd posted one before I did. Your story is so great! *applause* Sorry, for the unintentional copycatting)

Cindy, I only posted, like, six minutes before you did. That's about as close to simultaneous as one can get for a coincidence like that. Not copycatting at all.