'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a Kardashian was stirring, so I ironed my blouse;

The Louie Vuitton stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that the ex-wife's money soon would be there;

No children were nestled all snug in their beds;

While visions of my new bum danced in my head;

And mamma, who used to be pappa, in her 'flannels, and I in my teddy,

Had just heard an anthem by the great Helen Reddy,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see it was #blacklivesmatter.

Then yay through the window the police lights did flash,

Their gunshots did stutter and lead balls did smash.

The dead on the breast of the artificial snow,

Gave a luster of ink stains to objects below,

When what to my wondering eyes did appear,

But a bunch of trans girls dressed as tiny rein-deer,

With chocolate from Godiva so creamy and think,

I knew in a moment they're here for this chick.

More vapid than valley girls these trans-whores they came,

And I whistled, and shouted, and called out their names:

"Now,Ashley! The dancer! now Nancy and Vixen!

I'll vomit with,Lucy and Donna and Christen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now party, girls ! party girls! Party girls all!"

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When we meet with an obstacle, we'll trick the next guy;

So up to my front door the trans-whores they flew

With the sleigh full of toys, and Dame Edna too—

And then, in a twinkling, we climbed to the roof

For prancing and pawing with each little poof.

With my weave on my head, I was turning around,

Down the chimney Kanye came with a bound.

He was dressed in white fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were Armani, Laura Ashley and Sprout;

His big-booty wife he had flung on his back,

And he looked like Kriss Kross, wiggity-wiggity-whack.

His eyes—behind wayfarers! his thick lips, how yummy!

My cheeks were like roses, my nose twitching funny!

His droll big mouth won't shut up when on a roll,

And the beard on his chin was as black as coal;

He was just so dumb with a tight washboard belly

My implants shook when I laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

Kim was chubby and plump, a God-awful old elf,

And I laughed when I saw her, in spite of myself;

Distance in her eye and nothing in her head

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

We spoke not a word, and I went straight to my work,

Upstairs to my T-girls; for our Christmas circle jerk,

And laying my finger aside of my nose,

And giving a nod, up our girlcocks they rose;

We swear we're not gay, to hot chicks we still whistle,

And our loads they all blew like the Patriot missle.

Then they heard me exclaim, ere I stumbled out of sight—

“One out of 8 and half trans teens won't survive the night!”