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Twas the night before Griffmas
OK, so I'm literally getting no work done because I'm busy surfing draft sites, dreaming of finally having a franchise QB in DC and being amazed that I actually have my first man crush. So I figured I might as well stop fighting it....
Twas the night before Griffmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The jerseys were hung by the closet with care,
In hopes that an “RG III” nameplate would soon be there.
The Skins fans were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of deep bombs danced in their heads.
And Mrs. 06 in her Skins shirt, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long night’s nap.
When out on the gridiron there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the white of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my long-suffering eyes should appear,
But a QB running a naked bootleg, away on a tear
With a franchise QB, so fast and free,
I knew in a moment it must be St. RG3
More nimble than Eagles he juked one by one,
Then he laughed and stiff-armed a sorry Cowbum
"Now Pierre! now, Sleepy! now, Hank and Helu!
On, Royster! On, Morgan! And yes, Santana too!
To the endzone! to the top of the NFC-E!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away baby!"
Being the chumps they are, they started to cry,
All Cowbums, Giants and Eagles fans, said bye
To future Super Bowl hopes and conference wins too
All crushed under Griff’s mighty arm and swift shoe.
He sprang to the film room, for the Shannys to mold,
Then away he flew in weird socks, one burgundy, one gold.
But I heard him exclaim, as he passed a ball out of sight,
"Hail to the Redskins, for old DC I’ll fight!"
It's almost time to par-tay!!
OK, so I'm literally getting no work done because I'm busy surfing draft sites, dreaming of finally having a franchise QB in DC and being amazed that I actually have my first man crush. So I figured I might as well stop fighting it....
Twas the night before Griffmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The jerseys were hung by the closet with care,
In hopes that an “RG III” nameplate would soon be there.
The Skins fans were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of deep bombs danced in their heads.
And Mrs. 06 in her Skins shirt, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long night’s nap.
When out on the gridiron there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the white of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my long-suffering eyes should appear,
But a QB running a naked bootleg, away on a tear
With a franchise QB, so fast and free,
I knew in a moment it must be St. RG3
More nimble than Eagles he juked one by one,
Then he laughed and stiff-armed a sorry Cowbum
"Now Pierre! now, Sleepy! now, Hank and Helu!
On, Royster! On, Morgan! And yes, Santana too!
To the endzone! to the top of the NFC-E!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away baby!"
Being the chumps they are, they started to cry,
All Cowbums, Giants and Eagles fans, said bye
To future Super Bowl hopes and conference wins too
All crushed under Griff’s mighty arm and swift shoe.
He sprang to the film room, for the Shannys to mold,
Then away he flew in weird socks, one burgundy, one gold.
But I heard him exclaim, as he passed a ball out of sight,
"Hail to the Redskins, for old DC I’ll fight!"
It's almost time to par-tay!!
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