Here’s a treat for all my heathen friends. Happy Solstice!

A * V I S I T * F R O M * O D I N
by Laota French

If you’ll gather in close and bribe me with beer,
I shall tell you of Odin’s Vacation last year!
For Odin is Me! I’m the Best of the Best!
All you other douche gods can get kicked in your chest!

Where was I? Oh, yeah:

T’was some days after Solstice, and all through the sky,
The north winds were sweeter than an Eskimo pie.
We were winging on homeward — it wouldn’t be long –
And I dreamt about Fritos and my holiday bong.

Loki’d been hyper off his mini gum drops,
Till I’d got him dead hammered on butterscotch schnapps.
So by now he was nestled, all snug on my back,
Where he hung off my shoulders, like a monkey ruck sack.

Yes, the journey was long and the jet stream was cloudy,
And that must’ve been Sleipnir who was farting so loudly!
He was taking the long way and hopping off roofs,
Trying to scrape off the dog doo he’d got stuck to his hooves.

See, he’d been hittin’ the pipe, rocked the tonic and gin,
And those three shots of Bailey’s had finally kicked in.
So he started to swerve and he started to buck,
And I nearly got thrown off that eight-legged fuck!

I was a bit faced myself, and needed to sissy,
Loki was waking up into a hissy.
And with Sleipnir so stoned, The Wild Hunt had gone ooky.
And so I was all like, “Let’s stop for a cookie.”

I spotted a rooftop and we dove like a fish,
Took out the ridge pole, and the satellite dish.
What was left of the chimney was turned into rubble,
So I picked up my loot sack and snuck into the hovel.

I got such an ouch on my foot from the falling,
But I had to forebear, ’cause the cookies were calling.
They’d left them all out on a plate, unprotected,
Never dreaming that Odin would show, unsuspected!

I tossed some dead weight swag out of my sack,
In hopes I’d have just enough room for the snack,
But as I emptied the cookies, I heard something breathing,
And I turned to find some one was watching me thieving!

A man in a cap, looking sleepy and wan,
Who smiled, like he felt a big burp coming on.
He clutched at the ratty old robe that he wore,
And I laughed when I saw him, because he was poor!

A pasty old fart with beady green eyes,
He didn’t look rich and he didn’t look wise,
So I gave him the finger, as nice as can be,
And fast as a bastard, up the chimney with me!

Loki and Sleipnir were waiting for swag,
So I gave them some cookies from my thievery bag,
Then I mounted my horse and we took to the sky,
To return to the Hunt, on a sugary high!

I’m the best, I’m the boss, I’m the chieftain of cool!
Happy Solstice to me! And Yule.
Yule, Yule, Yule!

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