🎶 Silent Night, Unholy Night
Alternate humbug lyrics for those who have been laid low during the Holiday Season
A Piss-mas Carol
That’s what Christmas carols grow up to be when one doesn’t actually get to celebrate Christmas because one has been rammed by a drunk driver a few days before the holiday. (1)
Hey, man. We gotta keep a sense of humor about this stuff. We long-haulers often wind up with a dark chocolate sense of humor. It keeps us going while trapped in the Underworld.
For your karaoke pleasure. Sing it with me now!
Silent Night, Unholy Night
Silent night…unholy night
Phones don’t ring
About my plight
Down yon Hellhole
Crap has been piled
Bash-ed brains
Are only ranked “mild”
Deep in unholy pieces
Reap it! You shall have no peace.
especially from the drunk driver’s insurance company. (2)
and the car lot guy who wants your totaled crap off his dirt but you have no way
to get down there and deal with it.
and your pounding head.
and the muscle spasms jamming knives between your
vertabrae.dammit,
vertabay.vertabrai?
Crap. Moving on.
Silent night, craptastic sight
“Must be faking, pain is trite.”
(McFaker!)
Bullshit streams
From my insured car
Adjustors deny me
Feather and tar
Lo, Denial King is born!
Lo, the Denial King is born. (3)
🙏 (Very gently now) 🙏
Silent nights, unholy nights
(Let ‘er rip!)
🤘 Son of bitch! 🔥
🔥I have no rights! 🤘
Gradient “health care”
In place after place
Vampires suck me
Without a trace
Treat me like I have nooooo worth
‘Cause I need coins from their purth. (4)
Dis….aaaaabled…girrrrrrrl… at her…birth.
Thhhhhhhhhhpt.
#TBILife
Sooooo…I had super grand plans of making an asshat video of myself singing this for y’all in my Jack Hat and Naughty/Nice gloves but wellllll…if you haven’t been tracking the adventures on Substack Notes, you probably don’t know what’s going on.
Had to go for an emergency CT scan a couple weeks ago. We still don’t know why. I need a neurologist to tell me that.
Hunted for a neurologist. Found a neurologist. Almost an impossible feat where I live for anybody on Medicaid, but I did it.
They’re all out 6 months, but Synchronicity apparently still loves me because a cancellation came in while I was on the phone—provided I could get up to Missouri in 22 hours.
Scrambled for a ride. Found a ride. Bombed up to MO, had the appointment, actually got listened to, spent the whole ride back buried under my black Jack hat because apparently I’ve become a vampire and can’t tolerate sunlight right now. I now have an EEG and an MRI scheduled. Woot.
Am now sicker than a dog. This always happens when my brain gets this bad—my immune system tanks and I get laid low by the first microscopic beastie that crosses my path. UPDATE: Oh. It’s Covid. Joy to the World.
Long story short, I really wanted to sing this for y’all but now I’m frog-croaking on top of everything else and if I don’t just push UPLOAD on this post I’ve had sitting in my computer for 2 weeks, it’ll be April Fools Day before I can post it, and that will just clash with the holiday theme.
UP NEXT:
On This Day 23 Years Ago - December 18
© 2023 Hartebeast
1) The events that inspired this bit of holiday filkery:
BLAM.
2) Alternate grumbling mumbles to squeeze in between verses if you’re doing this a cappella. Use any, all, or insert your own glorious streams of bullshit. But you have to say it super-duper fast, under your breath, in the same note of that final “peace” and then go on like you were never interrupted.
3) Denial King: the doctor my insurance company sent me to for a second opinion when they wanted to stop paying for my medical care. (We in The Life actually have a much nastier name for these kinds of doctors, which I’m not going to type here.) Of course this doctor said my medical team was off its rocker with how many treatments I needed, and that I should be “just fine” to get back to work—chop-chop, Monkey Girl! They sent me to this doctor a mere MONTH AND 4 DAYS after 3 high-speed impacts that included slamming my head against the door frame. This meant I had to battle and appeal for every scrap of medical care I received for the next few months. Then I was outright denied because I “should have been #AllBetter.”
4) Badum-pthhhh! Wut? During all those dental surgeries I developed a bit of a lithp. Thuddup.
A wonderfully realistic, ironic, and fitting song — given your current situation.
I don’t go on notes much, so I did not know of your current predicament. I hope you feel better soon!