'Twas the Surf Before Christmas |
| 'Twas the surf before Christmas on the Ventura Beach, Not a creature was stirring, not even a leach. The boards were all hung from my surf racks with care, In hopes that in the morning, waves would be there. While I in my wetsuit and six-pack in hand, had just settled down for a night on the sand. But then from the breaks there arose such a clatter, I stumbled to my feet to see what was the matter. I ran to the water and threw on my leash, Jumped onto my board and left the warm beach. The moon shining bright on the soft supple breaks, Gave the lustre of twilight to the ocean so great. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a big-old rad surfer with dreadlocks for hair. I thought for a moment that I was still dreaming, I wanted to laugh but ended up screaming. The surfer who looked like he was wearing a wig, said "What's the matter grommy, the waves here too big?" "That did it", I thought as I looked in his eyes, But boy then did I ever get a surprise. The dreadlocks that hung from his head with such care, Were really snowy white like his mustache and beard. His wetsuit was stunning and very bright red, and he had a tattoo of jingle bells on his forehead. His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples how fine! His cheeks were like roses, maybe he's drunk off cheap wine! He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old dude, And I laughed when I saw him, even though he was crude. A wink of his eye and he looked over my way, Soon gave me to say "Man, are you gay?" "Let's hit it", he said, "a sets rollin' in", So I gave a thumbs up and said "Just don't drop in". That's when the weird dude got even weirder, He yelled out so loud it couldn't be much more clearer: "On Dashboard, on Dancing, on Drunken and Pukin, On surfboard, and sex-wax, and even you STUPID!" "To the top of the wave till it's full-on-wall, Then drop-in and turn, yeah, that's the call". The first one was mine, I took it for granted, I caught it and turned, as the old-fart just panted. When I turned out I looked, to see the weird dude, But that's when I was amazed and didn't know what to do. He spoke not a word, but started paddlin' like mad, And pearled on a wave that was really quite bad. His head bobbed up into the soup foamy white, I gotta admit, he was a pathetic old site. But I heard him yell out, as he came into sight "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night." |
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