Twas the Night Before Christmas
"TSC Style"
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the The Shaving Cadre
not a member was stirring, not even NurseDave.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that new shave gear, soon would be there
The members were nestled all snug in their dens,
while visions of new razors, soaps, aftershaves, watches, cigars, pipes, pens, blah, blah, blah, danced in their heads.
With avocadoqueen beside me and me with a Midwinters Nights Dram, I'd just settled in with a cigar, and why not.... Another Dram.
When on the gravel there arose such a clatter, "El Doggo" and I dashed from the couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I stumbled and dashed, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The Moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow ( YES we get snow sometimes!) Gave luster of mid-day to objects below.
When what to my drunken eyes should appear, but a sleigh and Eight TSC Peers.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than Amazon his shavers they came, and he whistled and shouted, and called them by name!
Now Spider, now MajorRich, now Scuttlesoap and CVargo... On Bruce, On Heysi, on Doner and Jaro!
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall! Now hone away, hone away, and shave away all!
As the bowl lathers when the soap is proto, I was setting up the scene for today's shave photo.
So up to the house top the TSC'ers they flew, with a sleigh full of shave stuff, and Santa too,
and then with a twinkling, I heard on the roof, the stumbling and cursing of each of the doofs.
As I drew my head, and was turning around, down the chimney came Santa with a huge bound.
He was dressed in a TSC Shave Shirt, with a strop on his belt
With scents of Barbacide, Citrus, Booze and Aqua Velva he smelt. A bundle of Vectors,
along with a Bullwinkle he had flung on his back.
He looked just like Bill M opening his "SuperCurve Pack"
His eyes how they sparkled! His smile how Merry! As he opened a tub of CBL Bamboo & Cherry.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the lather on his chin was like white fluffy snow.
A pipe of English Blend he held tight in his teeth, the smoke encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a DSBBS Face and a handful of Thayers, that he placed on his mug with Aftershave and EdT layers.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf.
I complimented his Aventus in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a look at his dopp gear, soon gave me to know, I had nothing to fear.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings and turned with a jerk!
Laying a finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his hooligans gave a whistle, and they flew away oddly, like an errant missile.
But I heard his exclaim, as he flew out of site........
Merry Christmas TSC, and to all a Good Night!
"TSC Style"
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the The Shaving Cadre
not a member was stirring, not even NurseDave.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that new shave gear, soon would be there
The members were nestled all snug in their dens,
while visions of new razors, soaps, aftershaves, watches, cigars, pipes, pens, blah, blah, blah, danced in their heads.
With avocadoqueen beside me and me with a Midwinters Nights Dram, I'd just settled in with a cigar, and why not.... Another Dram.
When on the gravel there arose such a clatter, "El Doggo" and I dashed from the couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I stumbled and dashed, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The Moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow ( YES we get snow sometimes!) Gave luster of mid-day to objects below.
When what to my drunken eyes should appear, but a sleigh and Eight TSC Peers.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than Amazon his shavers they came, and he whistled and shouted, and called them by name!
Now Spider, now MajorRich, now Scuttlesoap and CVargo... On Bruce, On Heysi, on Doner and Jaro!
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall! Now hone away, hone away, and shave away all!
As the bowl lathers when the soap is proto, I was setting up the scene for today's shave photo.
So up to the house top the TSC'ers they flew, with a sleigh full of shave stuff, and Santa too,
and then with a twinkling, I heard on the roof, the stumbling and cursing of each of the doofs.
As I drew my head, and was turning around, down the chimney came Santa with a huge bound.
He was dressed in a TSC Shave Shirt, with a strop on his belt
With scents of Barbacide, Citrus, Booze and Aqua Velva he smelt. A bundle of Vectors,
along with a Bullwinkle he had flung on his back.
He looked just like Bill M opening his "SuperCurve Pack"
His eyes how they sparkled! His smile how Merry! As he opened a tub of CBL Bamboo & Cherry.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the lather on his chin was like white fluffy snow.
A pipe of English Blend he held tight in his teeth, the smoke encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a DSBBS Face and a handful of Thayers, that he placed on his mug with Aftershave and EdT layers.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf.
I complimented his Aventus in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a look at his dopp gear, soon gave me to know, I had nothing to fear.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings and turned with a jerk!
Laying a finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his hooligans gave a whistle, and they flew away oddly, like an errant missile.
But I heard his exclaim, as he flew out of site........
Merry Christmas TSC, and to all a Good Night!
