Yes, its that traditional time of the year yet again.

[_Droopy]

Twas The Night Before Excommunication

'Twas the night before excommunication
and all through the land
All the exmos were stirring
and wringing their hands.

They writhed and they nestled, all snug in their beds
while pages of Dialog danced in their heads
With shelves filled with Tanner, and Decker, and Quinn
Oh my what a lather and froth they were in!

When out of blue their arose such a clatter,
It was FAIR and FARMS with the truth of the matter
To ex-Mormons.org they flew in a flash
For a big group hug, and emotional crash.

The blogs and the chats and the new message boards
gave the luster of truth to the slogans and corn
When what to their confounded minds should appear
Wade, Gaz, and Coggins, and a keg of rootbeer.

With minds of sharp wit, so lively and quick
the exmos knew in a moment, they'd run out of tricks
More rapid than eagles, the arguments came
They flummoxed the critics, and called them by name:

Now Decker! Now Martin!
Now Nelson and Tanner!
Now Ankerberg, Spencer,
Oh my what's the matter!

On Metcalf, Hutchinson,
Muphy and Quinn.
Mixing graduate studies,
with eggnog and sin.

As dust bunnies before the Dirt Devil fly
The forlorn exmos sat down and did cry,
Their arguments tattered, there slanders exposed.
The TBMs drank rootbeer, sat back and reposed.

Then in a twinkling, they awoke with a scream
To Shades, and Rollo, and Scratch on their screens!
Leftwingers and singers of sad tales of woe
Of leaving the church blow by blow.

They were dressed all in black, like Ozzy and Priest
Ready and primed for an invidious feast.
With buzzwords and can't, aimed right at the heart
of the followers of Christ, just doing their part.

Their eyes--how they gleamed, with snickering glee
as they mocked and joked of temples you see.
Their smug little lips drawn up in a smirk
as they whined and howled about woman and work.
Of sex, and drugs and rock n' roll
so politically correct, and too often told.

Some were trendy and shallow, some angry and mean.
And the TBM's laughed, in spite of the scene!
And with a wink of their eyes, and nods of their heads
The apologists knew they had nothing to dread.

They opened more cans of Hires and Dad's
and went straight to work on their brand new keypads.
The exmos turned blue with rage and frustration
and with middle fingers raised, gave a strange salutation.

They circled the wagons, and prepared for a fight
but the faithful were ready, with the disinfectant of light.
And I heard them exclaim, as the exmos did quiver

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all chopped liver!"

[_Ray A]

On Metcalf, Hutchinson,
Muphy and Quinn.
Mixing graduate studies,
with eggnog and sin.

Then people wonder why Scratch calls out the gossip-mongers. I don't need to think too hard to work out what you say in private.

And you, of course, are sinless.

[_Droopy]

All I have to say Ray, is get out more, get a life, and lighten up.

[_Ray A]

All I have to say Ray, is get out more, get a life, and lighten up.

Your poetry is a reflection of your real thinking.

Get out more? What do you think I've been doing for the last four nights? I "get out more" and talk to people in the real world for a living, 12-16 hours every night.

[_Trevor]

Clearly anyone who objects to Droopy's humor is either convicted by his righteous judgment or lacks a sense of humor. ;-)

[_Droopy]

No, anyone who objects to my humor has no inherent right to exist.

There, now someone can use that in their signature.

[_silentkid]

Thanks for the laugh, Droopy. I needed it. But I would rework this part:

...but the faithful were ready, with the disinfectant of light.

That's pure cheese.

[_Ray A]

Clearly anyone who objects to Droopy's humor is either convicted by his righteous judgment or lacks a sense of humor. ;-)

He's one of the Lord's self-annointed.

[_Ray A]

They circled the wagons, and prepared for a fight
but the faithful were ready, with the disinfectant of light.
And I heard them exclaim, as the exmos did quiver

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all chopped liver!"

When I first read this I thought it was, "and all chopped to liver". I must be reading too many of Nehor's posts.

[_Droopy]

When I first read this I thought it was, "and all chopped to liver". I must be reading too many of Nehor's posts.

No, just projecting, which seems to be the psychological defense mechanism of choice around here.