'Twas the time before Christmas…

With Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore
[sup](or possibly Henry Livingston)[/sup]

'Twas the time before Christmas, on the board - not a soul.
Not a Doper was lurking, not even a troll.
The stickys were hung on the forums with care,
In hopes that the newbies become more aware.

The mods were all nestled all snug in their threads,
While visions of “Goatse” messed with their heads.
So I logged on to Straight Dope, and I in my shorts,
Had just settled down seeking witty retorts.

When out of the pages the silence was shattered.
I sprang to the boards to share something that mattered.
Away to the forums I flew like a deer,
And started a new thread, then opened a beer.

“The folks on this board are the best ~ that I know,
My posts are too meager, my wisdom is low.”
Then thinking my lame post shan’t even be read,
A user named Cecil replied to my thread.

Amazed, my jaw dropped ~ head nearly imploded,
I thought for a moment that I must be loaded.
More rapid than eagles, in crisis he came,
Cecil smiled and posted, and called me by name.

“Now meek, let’s make it perfectly clear,
Your thread won’t be scorned by the folks around here.
To the top of the page! This thread cannot fall!
Now post away! Post away! Post away all!”

Now posts in this thread like a hurricane fly,
When told to by Cecil in an epic reply.
So up to the page-top, the greetings they flew,
With the thread full of joy and a **Cecil **post too.

And then, in a twinkling, I was not such a goof,
With the presence of Cecil in my little spoof.
As I typed out my post, and was hitting review,
Again posted Cecil and the lunacy grew.

He said , “I just wanted to thank all the Mods,
For they are such extraordinary squads.”
Like a bundle of toys, his posts we’d ingest.
Said I, “We all know that these Mods are the best.”

His posts - how they sparkled, his demeanor was merry.
His words were like roses, while my posts, the contrary.
His droll sense of humor, his wit apropos,
Was there any answer this dude didn’t know?

The words of the master held tight my belief,
His knowledge encircles my head like a wreath.
My heart filled with warmth, and more beers in my belly,
(It now shakes when I laugh, like a bowl full of jelly!)

That post is now printed, it’s framed on my shelf,
And I laugh when I read it, in spite of myself!
With a wink of his eye, and a post in my thread,
And I’m positive now that I have nothing to dread.

He typed his reply and went back his work,
Reminding all dopers, “Please don’t be a jerk.”
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod said, “Thanks meek for the prose!”

He sprang up like a sock, then as quick as a whistle,
Was off with the wind, like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he bid “Adios!”,
“Happy Christmas to all, and my gift was this post!”

:slight_smile:

Friggin’ awesome, meek!! :smiley:

Here comes double post,
here comes double post,
right down preview lane. . .

meek is blitzed with Tripler quotin’,
in this good ol’ thread!
Bells are ringing, the Pit is pinging,
My LCD monitor is bright.
Ask your questions, for Og’s sake preview,
'Cause Cecil’s comes tonight.

Tripler
Happy Turkey Day!

Perfect Master Cecil looked out,
On this day of Turkey,
Where the posts lay round about,
Deep, profound (or murky),
Brightly shone the monitors,
Though the pit was cruel,
When a poster came in sight,
Gathering witty fu-e-el.

Hither, Zotti, stand by me,
If though knowst what’s good for you,
Yonder poster, who is he,
Where and what his milieu?
Sire, he posts from far away,
Underneath a bridge,
Against the laws of decency,
His bile he does not abridge,

Bring me snark and bring me wit,
Bring me mindless blather,
Thou and I will see him learn,
(Better than Dan Rather!)
Coldfire and Samclem, forth they went,
Forth they went together,
Through Lynn Bodoni’s wild lament,
And broke through Tuba’s tether,

Sire, the night is darker now,
And the posts blow stronger,
Fails my heart, I know not how,
I can post no longer,
Mark my words, O Little Ed,
Tread thou in them boldly,
Thou shall find Bodoni’s rage,
Leaves your bloomers coldly,

In the master’s steps he trod,
Where the posts lay withered,
Fear was in his cowering heart,
Much like Mr. Smithers,
Therefore, Straight Dope folks, be sure,
Wit or Cite possessing,
Ye who now will bless the bores,
Shall yourselves find blessing.

Twas in the threads of MPSIMS,
When all the mods had fled,
That mighty Og and IPU
Sent Tuba and Lynn instead.

Before their light the stars grew dim,
And wond’ring Dopers heard the hymn…

“Cecil, your Master is born,
Cecil is born,
Get your 1920’s style death ray ready!”

( Sorry, that sucked. :o )

Thanks Dude!

You said that **Cecil **was coming tonight?

Kewl!

I’ll be waiting here to greet him.

Did he say what time? :wink:
TellMeI’mNotCrazy That was awesome! applauds madly

Kythereia - That didn’t suck! It brought a smile to my face… which is the purpose of this thread. Thanks for the contribution!
:slight_smile:

No, but he said something about a plate of cookies, a glass of milk, a six-pack of beer, and a Playboy.

Tripler
I’m sure the beer and Playboy are for Slug.