by Andrew Piskai
Dear Friend,
Everyone loves turkey. Unless you’re a vegetarian. Or a jerk that hates America. Regardless, Thanksgiving is a holiday for the masses, a bountiful feast for all God’s children, a momentous annual celebration. It commemorates Pocahontas and the Pilgrims opening up a can of cranberries together in harmony before the pilgrims opened up a can of whoop-ass on the Indians Native Americans Indians. Every year the fourth Thursday of November marks the day where America unites in a tryptophan-induced coma.
Despite the historical significance and national identity coming with Thanksgiving, this holiday is seldom remembered for the things for which it really stands: the threshold where you can officially listen to Christmas music. Everyone loves Christmas music. Everyone. No, I’m not kidding, everyone. The gentle tones of a traditional carol recreate happy memories of snowy Christmases of yesteryear with all the wonderful goodies Santa brought.
It fails to commemorate, though, memories of more recent Christmas seasons past. For example, where is the Christmas carol that reminds of the time your frat-brothers locked you out of the house—shivering—naked as the day you were born? Where is the Christmas Carol that brings back the memory of when you got alcohol poisoning from eggnog at the Christmas Eve party you went to… the one with that girl from Econ…no the other one… her friend…no, not the chesty one, the other one…yeh, that one…where is that Christmas Carol?
Well, my friend, I have your answer. The producers at Jive Records have released their new album entitled It’s a Frat-boy Christmas! which includes such hit songs as…
Asleep with a Stranger
(to the tune of Away in a Manger)
Asleep with a stranger,
My condom-less “head”
I hope she’s unconscious
as we lay in bed
I roll her on over
I’m ready to play
I see she’s a “he” but
I stay anyway
Jungle Juice
(to the tune of Silent Night)
Jungle juice, holy juice
Best of all, Alcohol
“Drink yon Virgins,” I say with a smile
It will surely be worth your while
Just don’t tell Penn police
Please don’t tell Penn police
It’s the most drunken-ass time when there’s beer
(to the tune of It’s the most wonderful time of the year)
It’s the most drunken-ass time when there’s beer.
With the frat-boys all yelling,
and drug dealers selling,
“Dime-bags over here”
It’s the most drunken-ass time when there’s beer.
There’ll be drinks to be tasted,
to get people schwasted
until they pass out in the snow.
there’ll be smokin’ hot bitties
with honkin’ big titties
in high heels who walk to and fro.
It’s the most drunken-ass time when there’s beer.
There will be hormones flowing
and thongs will be showing,
the crack of your rear.
It’s the most drunken-ass time when there’s beer.
…and many more! But not too many more.
Buy your copy today,
A.T. Piskai