The Loser's Night Before New Year
(With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)
Be Glad You Are Spending New Year's Alone
'Twas the night before New Years, when all through the house
The guests were all gathered, the music was Strauss;
The champagne was iced in the kitchen with care,
In hopes that the bubbles would enamor all there;
The guests were dressed in their New Year's Eve threads,
While visions of great wine danced in their heads.
Then in walked our friend with a half case of Cooks,
Not Champagne, mind you, which caused some odd looks;
But sparkling wine, that masquerading villain;
Whatever was he thinking, was he a cretin?
At least there was our wine, of that we were sure,
Little did I know what we would later endure.
Our first wine was corked, the next one was flat,
The third wine we tasted was made from muscat;
The fourth wine blew up, its cork like a bullet;
Spewing Champagne everywhere. I felt I would vomit.
The fifth bottle's cork was totally stuck
At this point the night was beginning to suck.
We got our last bottle, some Dom Pérignon,
I prepared to open it, let sadness be gone;
When up came my friend, the one with the Cooks
And said that our winemakers all must be crooks.
I turned to reply, to put him in his place
But broke the Champagne on my wife's brand new vase.
No wines left to drink but the Cooks that he brought,
A wine, I promise, that no one here sought.
So here we all sit at eleven forty-five;
Our well-planned party has gone into a dive;
But I won't be quick to complain or boycott;
Oh what the hell, at least he didn't bring Totts.