‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through Telehouse;
Not a blacklist was stirring, not even Spamhaus.
Security was sleeping all snug at their desk,
While Klenert and Cornman tried to reinstall Plesk.
And I with my spool of fiber in check,
Had just settled down to run a ghetto crossconnect.
When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my cabinet to see what was the matter.
The power went out and no one could see,
“Not again,” I muttered, “it’s UPS 3″.
Then suddenly the colo door flew open with a crash;
I threw down the tile puller, and hid all my cash.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a crazy looking Russian, who seemed a bit queer.
He was dressed in a trapeze suit, from his head to his toe,
And his teeth were all yellow like a cracksmoking ho.
And under the leotard was a Russian Bear sweater,
with nipple hole cut-outs, and shoes of shark leather.
With his pants hiked up almost to his boob,
I exclaimed, “Hey I know you, I saw your karaoke on YouTube!”
A bundle of batteries he had flung on his back,
He sat down like a gypsy and opened his sack.
He spoke not a word, set up a sign with a smirk,
“UPS $50, n0 j0ke, these things w3rk!”
And as the batteries sold out, he exclaimed with delight,
“Now Randy won’t hate me, I can pay Amex tonight.”
Then he packed up his bag and leapt from his perch,
And said “I must get back to my ground-breaking research!”
He ran to the window, which Telehouse calls cooling,
And hopped into a sled that left everyone drooling.
It had rims, it had dubs, it couldn’t have been slicker,
And there on the back, a Paul Wall bumper sticker!
“Now Spyware! now Phishing! now CP and Spam!”
“On DDoS! on Backdoor! on Virus and Scam!”
And as he rode out of sight, he said “I’ve got to bail,”
“But Merry Christmas to all, and the check’s in the mail.”
