A parody of; The Twelve Days of Christmas
My Dearest Darling John,
I went to the door today and the postman delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a delightful romantic gift. Thank you darling for the wonderful thought.
With deep love and affection always, your ever loving Agnes.
My dearest John,
Today the postman brought your very sweet gift, two turtle doves. I am delighted, they are adorable.
All my love, your ever loving Agnes.
Oh how extravagant you are. I really must protest, I don't deserve such generosity. Three french hens, I insist you are too kind.
Your loving Agnes.
What can i say? Four beautiful calling birds arrived with the postman this morning. Your kindness is too much.
My dearest John,
What a surprise, today the postman delivered five gold rings, one for each finger. You really are an impossible boy, but I love you. Frankly, all these birds are beginning to squawk and get on my nerves.
Your ever loving Agnes.
When i opened the door this morning there were actually six bloody great geese layihng eggs all over the front step. So we are back to birds again, are we? Where on earth do you think I can keep them all? My neighbours are beginning to smell them, and I can't sleep at night. Please Stop!
Cordially yours, Agnes.
What is it with you and these sodding birds? Now I get seven swans a swanning. Is this some god-dammed joke or what? The house is full of bird s*** and the racket! I'm beginning to become a nervous wreck. So, it's not funny any more, stop sending bloody birds.
I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with eight maids a milking? It's not enough with all those birds, now I have eight cows s****ing all over the house and mooing all night.
Lay off, smart a**e, Agnes.
What are you? Some kind of nut? Now I have nine pipers playing and Christ, do they play. When they aren't playing their sodding pipes, they keep chasing the maids through the cow s***. The cows keep mooing and treading all over the bloody birds, and the neighbours are threatening to have me evicted.
You'll get yours, Agnes.
You rotten Bas****
Now we have ten ladies dancing, how on earth anyone can call these "whores" ladies is beyond me. They're balling the pipers all night long, the cows can't sleep and have diarrhoea, my living room is a river of s*** and the landlords have jsut declared the building unfit for habitation.
Pi** off, Agnes.
What with eleven lords a leaping all over the maids and me, we shall never walk again. The pipers are fighting the lords for the crumpet and are commiting sodomy with the cows. All the birds are dead and rotting among the cow s***, having been trampled during the orgy, but not before they'd eaten my golden rings. I hope you are satisfied, you rotten vicious s***house!
Your sworn enemy, Agnes.
You stinking lousy s***!
Twelve drummers drumming here have teamed up with the pipers in making one hell of a bleeding din. Both lots have been b*****ing the lords as well as the cows, and Christ knows what has happened to the milkmaids, they're probably drowned in the cow s*** by now. The only way I've saved myself from getting screwed to death is by hiding up that sodding pear tree, which has been so well fertilized that it's grown through the roof.
I send you seasonal greetings - boll**ks, Agnes!
Happy Christmas folks, hopefully this put a smile on your face!