Remembering Cristmas's Past...

[futuresoptions]

Originally Posted by Laneco

‘Twas the night before Christmas
And at casa de Lane
Things were quiet and peaceful
Suprisingly sane…

I had Just Curled Up
With a JEGS Catalog
Sprawled out on the couch with
Two kids and a dog.

Steve was in the garage
Just puttering away
He’d been turning his
Wrenches for most of the day.

The Spyder was so close
To being done you see
As near to running
As a car could be.

But some missing parts
And a few shorted wires
Had kept Mr. Lane from
Lighting the fires.

As the evening wore on
I slipped into a nap
And dreamed of a car
To take a fast lap.

Then from the garage
Came a terrific roar
The bellow of an engine
Running full bore.

The couch and my butt
How quickly they parted
As I ran for the garage
OH GOD IT STARTED!!

The air was filled
With start-up smoke
And sound of the motor
Waking up the dead folk.

With the garage door open
And the road awaiting
The open pipes bellowed
Laws of deceny baiting.

“Move over Steve,
Cause you’re riding *****
The car wants to run
And I’ve got an itch!”

I slipped the lever
Into first gear
And pulled out the clutch
Hands sweaty with fear.

Into second we go
Across the dog-leg
The motor pulls hard
For more brakes I beg…

Into third we go
With tires a spinning
Having some fun now
Both of us grinning.

Fourth gear comes
Alarmingly fast
The air bites hard
A sharp winter blast.

There’s one more gear
We’ve got 5th to go
The chill in the cockpit
Is about fifty below.

Steve laughs like a madman
And cheers me on
I grab that last gear
And baby we’re GONE!

The pipes are wide open
There’s flames shooting high
The Porsche’s exhaust
Lights up the night sky!

Motorheads everywhere
We all know the sound
With the throttle wide open
When the pedal is down.

The music of an engine
Pierces the night
Going fast, pulling hard
This is just right!

But the chill of the air
Reminds us to head home
To the Tree and the kids
Where the Bassett Hounds roam.

We pull into the garage
And shut down the beast
Hand in hand to the house
For the big Christmas Feast.

So from our house to yours
We wish you good cheer
Have a great time with family,
Then GO GRAB SOME GEARS!

*merry christmas everyone!
steve and angela

Originally Posted by mikez

A fellow poster of dubious repute posted this in another forum....anyone got a better one?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


Twas the night before Christmas, I sat in my shack
I cleaned every gun on my mantle gun rack
My wife was just sitting there running her yap
So I reached right on over and gave her a slap.
Tonight I need focus, I gotta move quick.
Cause I'm going to blow away Jolly St. Nick

Last year I had asked for a new gun to try
But instead I was given a polka dot tie
I hide in wait by the nativity scene
As I lock and I load my AR-15
My weapon all set now, I'm ready to go
At the sound of the very first "Ho ho ho ho."

When up on the roof reindeer hoofs I did hear
Time to pump some hot lead into Santa's fat rear
He came down the chimney, sliding feet first
At the sight of his face I fired two three round bursts
My shots they went high, and he dodged to his side
Not knowing that nowhere from me could he hide.

"Hey Santa, you drunken old elf!" I did cry,
"You screwed me for presents last year, time to die!"
When suddenly up Santa came, still alive,
And whipped out a Heckler and Koch MP-5
"You've been a bad boy, says the list that I've made"
Then he flashed me a smile and he tossed a grenade

I dove quick for cover, my status quite dire
Santa laid down a long burst of covering fire
The grenade it went off, the manger destroying
That fat jolly freak had got pretty annoying
I took a deep breath and slapped in a fresh clip
Then stood up and fired a long burst from the hip

My rifle did roar, with each shot it did quiver
St. Nick went down hard, shot right through the liver
When out though the window the sleigh I did see
The reindeer were desperately trying to flee
So on to the roof I did run in a dash
And I called out their names with my rifle's each flash

Die Dasher! Die Dancer! Die Prancer and Vixen!
Die Cupid! Die Comet! Die Donder and Blitzen!
They zigged and they zagged, but I nailed them all
Soon there'd be eight new heads on my trophy room wall
I went back to the spot where I saw Santa fall
But I found no blood trail, he was not shot at all!

Then out from the driveway an engine did roar
I ran fast as I could, flinging open the door
Santa, it looked, was not finished by far
And it seemed that in fact he'd just stolen my car
As he drove away flashing his fat naked butt
He called back Merry Christmas you farking gun nutA fellow poster of dubiuos repute posted this in another forum....anyone got a better one?

Originally Posted by imcarthur

Well, I did find this news clipping . . .



Ian

Originally Posted by gsmith660

Merry Christmas to all my friends here on the turbo forum and thanks for all the help you gave me this summer.
A poem posted on the tech forum.

Twas the Night Before Christmas. Porsche Style!


Twas the night before Christmas, where all through the shop
Not an engine was leaking, not even a drop.
The tires were filled to their max PSI,
In hopes that dreaded flat spots won’t appear where they lie.

The drivers were warm, all snug on the couch,
Playing driving games in earnest so their skills would not slouch.
With batteries slowly charging from electricity on tap,
The Porsches were prepared for their long winter’s nap.

When from beyond the garage there arose such a roar,
I sprang from my PS3 to the polished concrete floor.
A click of a button and the garage doors did raise,
I looked out into the dark my mind in a haze.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to the objects below.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Porsche Turbo for a gift, “is this a joke?” I did fear!

With a tap of the pedal the exhaust note sounds,
I knew in a moment a flat six had been found.
More rapid than a cheater in a Nissan GT-R,
With a new Porsche Turbo I know I’ll go far.

Now Doctor! Now Hoffman! now, Carlson and Butzi!
On, Elford! On, Patrick! on, David and Hurley!
To the start of the race! we’re off to the “Ring”!
Through the corners and chicanes this Turbo we’ll fling.

If we meet with an obstacle, forced air is induced,
Nothing feels quite the same as that twin turbo boost.
Around and around the “ring” we did go,
By holding the line we were anything but slow.

Lap after lap the tarmac flew past,
We knew from the start we’d never be last.
My foot on the gas, I’m ready to shift,
If you find the apex there’s no need to lift.

As we round the last corner the checkered flag in site,
This unfair race wasn’t even a fight.
The marshals guide us toward victory lane,
Where once again Podium is Porsche’s to gain.

Up upon the highest platform we stand,
Taking the win in Porsche’s homeland.
Time to go home, put the Turbo in gear,
We turn up the radio for all to hear.

The speakers are blaring as we drive out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

[futuresoptions]

Originally Posted by pwd72s

as sent to me by Mick, a 356 driving friend:

Twas the night before Christmas and the Porsche was dead
Should I work on the car, or go straight to bed?

Everything was connected, in proper place
What was I missing? My steps I'll retrace.

The wires were nestled all snug on their plugs,
Just waiting to fire, new pistons and jugs

And Mamma in bed, and I in the shop,
I twisted the key, a sputter, a pop

When from the back end, there arose such a clatter,
I banged my head, then my lip got fatter

Away to the engine, I flew like a flash
Tore open the lid, and burnt my moustache!
I grabbed the extinguisher, just in time
And stood there in awe, like a motionless mime

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
A gas leak, and tin work, and decals that seared
With a little old screwdriver, so lively and quick
I tightened the clamp, What a DIPSTICK!

More rapid than eagles my curses they came
Oh I was pissed, but I was to blame

"You, IDIOT! You, FOOL! You're STUPID and a BUM!
You're PATHETIC! You're a HACK! You're a TURKEY and DUMB!"
Back to the cockpit! A twist of the switch!
Now crank away! Crank away! Crank away *****!

As gas started gass'n and sparks started spark'n
They both came together; the exhaust started bark'n
So up on the tach, the RPM's flew
I'm going for a drive, beyond my curfew.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the house
The pissing and moaning, of my strict little spouse
As I backed out the door, and was turning around
Across the driveway she came, with jacket and hound

She was dressed and prepped, to go for a ride
How could I fault her, we all got inside
We motored with snow, billowing over the roof
Too bad this tub, isn't rustproof!

Her lights-- how they twinkled! Her handling how merry!
Her temperature was rising, I was smitten by Ferry!
His cool little car, ripped down the road
Hope we make it back home, without getting towed

I was excited and nervous, white knuckled the wheel
A friendship was forming, like B.B. and Lucille.
My smile grew bigger, from ear to ear
As I threw in the clutch, and shifted the gear

We slid and dog tracked around every turn
I redlined and redlined with little concern
The smooth power curve, of the Maestro cam
Guidance and books; I'm happy as a clam

I continued to drive, through the downtown
Past carolers and skaters, without a letdown
And easing my shoe, into the throttle
We headed home, with no further doddle

As we pulled out of town, a sweet buzz and whistle,
Escaped from the bursch, like a lethal scud missile
And the list members heard, as I roared out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a Good-Night"

And while not the most Christmasy, a legend in it's own time...

Originally Posted by Porsche-O-Phile

"Cratch Slappin'" by P-O-P, (c) 2007, with sincere apologies to Dr. Seuss. It's the beer's fault. . .



So I'm with my new girl and she makes this request,
One evening while I'm busy fondling her breast.
It was weird! Unexpected! It took me aback!
She says her cratch she wants me to smack!
I'm stunned at first and don't reply,
But thinking about it, I guess I should try.
After all this is something she's asked me to do,
So my plan, my good friends, I'll now share with you:



If it's something she wants and something she needs,
I'm smackin' that ***** until it bleeds.

Although this is new and a little bizarre,
I'm gonna' smack it so hard, it might leave a scar.

If I can't satisfy her, she'll call me a wimp,
So it's time to become a cratch-slappin' pimp.



I'll smack that cratch - I'll smack it blue!
I'll smack it the way she wants me to!
I'll smack it soft, I'll smack it hard,
I'll smack it inside or out in the yard.

I'll smack 'til tender and puffy and red,
I'll smack it whenever she takes me to bed.

I'll smack that cratch all kinds of ways,
I'll smack it on even and odd-numbered days.



She's the one who wants me to try this technique!
I should oblige! It don't mean I'm a freak!
So I'll do what she asks and extend my hand,
Line up a good shot and then let it land,
With a "slap! slap! slap!" right on that place
That's usually covered with panties and lace.
And the "slap! slap! slap!" of skin on skin
I know will bring her a satisfied grin.



I'll smack that cratch - I'll smack it blue!
I'll smack it the way she wants me to!
I'll smack it soft, I'll smack it hard,
I'll smack it inside or out in the yard.

I'll smack that cratch - I'll smack it silly!
I'll smack it the way I'd smack Milli Vanilli.

I'll smack it hard, I'll smack it light,
I'll smack it as if we were having a fight.



And at the end of it all, when the slappin's all done.
I know she'll be happy and say "that was fun".
She'll say it was great, she'll say it was nice,
But her cratch will need some aloe and ice.
'cause I'll do what she wants - I ain't holding back!
That cratch is gettin' my smack! smack! smack!



I'll smack that cratch - I'll smack it blue!
I'll smack it the way she wants me to!
I'll smack it soft, I'll smack it hard,
I'll smack it inside or out in the yard.

I'll smack that cratch - I'll smack it around!
I'll smack it until I hear that "slap!" sound!

I'll smack that cratch like a good boyfriend should,
Whether using my forehand or backhand - or wood.

Hope everyone has a safe and merry Christmas!!!

[Laneco]

Wow - two of those are ours... The first poem and the exploding pyrex dish!

Christmas at our house is NEVER dull.... So far nothing's caught on fire and the police have failed to knock on the door. I thik I'll open that second bottle of wine and see if we can change that!

angela