That's right folks - it's that time yet again for this yearly tradition. This is as traditional as the hanging of the pimprig sock by the fire place (word on the street is.... this year Dex has it), and all the staff getting intoxicated on vodka mixed with a little eggnog.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except Vladmir's LED modded mouse.
The computer was glowin', the icons were hopping,
As a hapless nublets did their last minute camping.

The stockings were hung by the 30" LCD monitor with care
In hope that St. BigAkita would bring new hardware.
The children were nestled all snug in their futons,
While visions of Crysis danced in their heads.

Bosch scroll saw for Wordbiker, and 1k/w PSU for Reflux,
And a pre-mod for Pamela Ann (she is such a nub she can't spell Dremel)
The letters to Santa had been sent out by Lokie's-Mom,
To santaclaus@toyshop.northpole.com -

One of my hoes in her 'kerchief, and I in my fedora,
Had just settled down for a long winter's caffeine crash,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the foton to see what was the matter.
Away to computer I flew in a dash,
IM'd everyone I knew with "OMGWTF-BBQ'dSalamanders! Someone is here!!!!111onetwoalphaomegazulu!!!!".

The moon shaped window on my SilverStone
Gave the lustre of mid-day to all that was near,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
Why, a jovial ol' fat man with a big @$$ beard,

With a bag of gifts and Pale Ale, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. BigAkita
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name "Now, Cascade! now, Danger Den! now, Antec and Cooler Master!
On, Blazer! on CPU-ID! on, Kentsfield and Driver-haven!
To the top of the ranks! to the top of the ORB!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

He was dressed all in zoot suit attire, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with acrylic shards and dremel soot;
A bottle of FluidXP he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as a Razr pro;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the reserviors; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside the power button and hit the switch!
And giving a nod, up the chimney he went;

He sprang to his Dodge (with teh l33t exhaust), to his crew gave a whistle,
And away they all flew down the road.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT"



Iateronmly - Pimp Hand Strong.