Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the sea
Every ISHer was roasting a swaggerless manatee.
The posts were hilarious, the replies written with care
Mbell could only respond with: “I did your mother, so there!”
The ISHers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sea mammals danced in their heads.
I sat on my sofa, my computer on my lap;
Just surfing the web before my long winter’s nap.
When out on the OTC there arose such a clatter,
I clicked on Pete’s thread to see what’s the matter.
The thread opened quickly on my Windows PC,
Glad I gave up my Mac, it wouldn’t let me do as I pleased.
I beheld a behemoth, with sausages for fingers,
With shades on inside did he not expect zingers?
He thought he would look cool flashing a few hundred bills,
He looked like a fool, his fate would be sealed.
He claimed to have slept with the girls on his lap,
But he can’t see his penis whenever he fwaps.
This douchebag must be muzzled; the call quickly rang out,
We won’t fall for his lies no matter how much he spouts.
“ Now Pete! Now, Rezznor! Now, Killbot and Shannon!
On, Zen! On, Quizno! On, Selenium and Hayden!
Create a photoshop! Contribute to his fall!
Now post away! Post away! Post away all!”
And in unison the ISH nation did speak,
They put him on blast, Mbell’s reality was bleak.
He has no women, his visage is disgusting.
He lies to teenagers about girls he is lusting.
The ownage was severe, some think too far with the roast,
But ISH will was spoken and to the community I shall toast.
Thanks for coming through and fighting the good fight,
Happy Christmas to ISH, and to ISH a good night!